And From the Shadows
by Robbins2
Summary: Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House at Hogwarts has been charged with protecting a young girl who stand before unknown danger. Luna Lovegood is left all alone when her father goes missing. Professor Snape does not wish to trade his solitude but he cannot turn his back on duty. Could they end up saving each other?
1. Chapter 1

**And from the Shadows**

 **DISCLAIMER - None of these delightful characters are mine, all belong to JK Rowling.**

"You cannot be serious," a throaty growl and the speaker leaned from the shadows, yet darkness cloaked him yet.

A silver haired man inclined his head once. A nod of confirmation.

"I' m afraid I am, Severus," Albus Dumbledore spoke in his habitually tranquil tone but there was no mistaking the resolve in his intent.

"Then you leave me with no choice. My answer is no," the reply was equally steadfast.

Seated behind his antique desk, the aged and revered Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy drew a heavy sigh. He shook his head, his long beard swaying.

He regarded the other man, who had remained standing throughout, his blue eyes steady and utterly without rancour. Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House, one of the most feared Professors to ever grace the halls of this school. And one of the most principled, though he kept his virtues well hidden from even the keenest scrutiny.

"And what of your oath, my dear friend?" Dumbledore asked benignly and the younger man's face contorted with a deepening anger.

"Does it ever occur to you that you presume too much upon it?" Snape intoned harshly. Beneath scowling eyebrows, eyes blacker than a starless night sky flashed.

"A moot point for I ask what I must," the Headmaster returned.

Snape gritted his teeth, a muscle in his jaw clenching. He had been asked to perform tasks that called his own safety, his own survival into question in service of this man and he had not once questioned the reason for them. He had given a pledge and his word was true.

This was altogether different, this was not life or death, a line Snape walked with catlike precision. This was care giving, a universe as foreign to the Professor as the finer points of ballet.

"You are honestly asking me to take eleven year old child into my home? I am not married. There are plenty of teachers at this school better positioned to step into the shoes of a glorified babysitter!" Snape said.

"This is not a straightforward matter, Severus," Dumbledore managed to sound regretful and decisive at the same time.

"A classic understatement, I would say," Snape's lips twisted in a mirthless sneer.

"Xenophillus is missing. Unaccountably so. The suspicion of dark magic is very strong. Given these circumstances, I must have more time to establish what has happened. Meanwhile, the girl is virtually alone in the world," the Headmaster's face was grieved.

The features of his companion did not reflect a matching concern. Empathy did not come easily to him. The plight of a child he had never met did not stir his compassion.

"And if her father has fallen foul of dark wizardardry, then the safest place for her is here. I managed to persuade the ministry not to place her in the care of a magical family but at Hogwarts. In return, they requested that she be assigned a guardian," Dumbledore's gaze behind his half moon spectacles remained steady.

"So naturally you thought of me," Snape could have laughed at the bizarre line this conversation was following. That he should be the Headmaster's choice as protector for this fledgling fallen from its nest was as ridiculous as entrusting a lost kitten to a tiger.

Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled not in humour but the irony of this situation was not lost on him.

"Severus, you are believed to have certain connections." Dumbledore paused but his gaze did not falter. He sought to find the most tactful way to phrase what he was going to say.

"If it is true that some on the side of darkness are responsible for Zenophillus' disappearance, they are less likely to come after her if she is under your protection."

"Xenophillus Lovegood has been tilting at imaginary windmills for as long as he's lived. The only dark magic he has fallen foul of is some harebrained idea of his own concoction he's off chasing. No doubt he will turn up in a few days spouting yet more gobbledegook that he's pedalling as actual research," Severus' was far from being convinced that rescue was even needed here, much less that he should be a participant.

"That may be. And if so, the matter is resolved to everyone's satisfaction," the Headmaster held his hands out, palms outward, as if releasing an invisible object.

"But I should tell you, Severus, the symbol was found at his house. The Hallows. It was on a chain that he was never without. His daughter is adamant about that. And just as emphatic that he would never leave without her. Her mother died when she was an infant. They are the only family either one has."

The more Dumbledore talked, the more uncomfortable Snape grew, He felt as though the jaws of an unseen cage were closing around him.

"I repeat, Headmaster. I do not have a wife. I have no family of my own, no experience of childrearing whatsoever. Placing the girl with me is hardly appropriate," Snape tried once more, though he sensed the decision was already made, no matter what he said.

"Until we know what happened to Xenophillus the priority is to keep the girl safe. And you are better qualified for that than anyone else, Severus," Dumbledore rose from his chair, slightly stooped but still a commanding figure, tall and thin and magnificently clad in robes of incandescent shades of scarlet.

Snape dropped his head, lifted a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.

"I will not mollycoddle her, Headmaster. If she is to live with me, she lives by my rules. I do not sing lullabies and bake cookies," the Head of Slytherin lifted his head once more and met Albus Dumbledore's amused blue eyes.

"Even I do not ask for that!" the older wizard smiled.

"Severus, the girl begins her education as a student here in the autumn. By which time, this matter will no doubt be resolved and she will be reunited with her father. But if not, she will be placed in a house, have her dorm. This is but a temporary inconvenience."

"And Lovegood?" Snape drawled.

"At this point, you know as much as I do. As you mentioned, Xenophillus cast a wide net into many obscure areas of magic. Most of it harmless I'm sure but it is certainly possible he stumbled on something more dangerous than the migratory patterns of wimble nooks," Dumbledore sighed.

"I still think he will turn up with his head full of the drabble he has been printing in the Quibbler for decades," Snape intoned.

"But if there is news to the contrary?" Dumbledore watched him carefully.

"Then I will find it."

Dumbledore nodded once, satisfied that the conversation had gone as well as he could have hoped for.

"The girl? Where is she?" Snape spoke with an air of resignation.

"She is with Minerva, in her office," the headmaster's response had Snape nodding his head. He might have guessed. Minerva McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House and the backbone of this school.

"And how much of this neat little arrangement for her future has she been told?" Snape asked silkily, rankled yet by the feeling of having been managed.

"She knows that she will be staying with a Professor from Hogwarts until her father is found. She is a bright girl, Severus and her concerns for Xenophillus are well placed. She has a sense of the danger. But her thoughts are not easy to discern in the first look. There is rather more to her than meets the eye, I feel," Dumbledore said.

Snape reached the door, which opened for him without being touched.

"And Severus? Perhaps you might try easing her into her new situation rather than an outright plunge?"

Meaning do not terrify the wits out of her.

"Of course," Snape did not turn around. His tone was guttural.

Snape had already stepped onto the first step of the enchanted winding stair leading from the Headmaster's office when Dumbledore's voice sounded once more behind him.

"The girl. Her name is Luna."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 **DISCLAIMER - None of these delightful characters are mine, all belong to JK Rowling.**

The fire in the hearth cast gold and ochre reflections on the stone walls of the room and sitting before the cheery blaze, Luna felt almost cosy. Beside her sat an elderly witch, who had said she was called Professor McGonagall. The woman was kind, though her face was stern set and Luna had just finished the last of a generous tea the woman had arranged, consisting of steaming soup, a plate piled high with sandwiches, and an equally laden dish of puddings, treacle tarts, strawberry sponges, chocolate fingers.

Luna had eaten her fill and had fallen into a thoughtful silence. What was going to happen now, she wondered? The man who had called himself Professor Dumbledore had told her she would be staying with a Hogwarts teacher for the next while. Yet it clearly wasn't this lady, pleasant as she seemed.

There was nothing for it but to wait and so this is what Luna did. Professor McGonagall tried to keep a stream of conversation going but her bracing attempts were beginning to lag. This was not surprising to Luna, people often did not know what to say to her.

It did not trouble her over much, she didn't care for chatter anyway. When there was something worth saying, she always had her father to tell. Or at least she did until yesterday. A small frown flitted across her face as she thought about her Dad but it was disguised by the large, star shaped glasses with the magenta lenses that she was wearing. Googlehoffs they were called and they were the best for allowing one to see star crests, as Dad had told her a hundred times.

One had to be very careful about star crests, as clusters of the rapid flying tiny elves were common causes of making people have inadvertent falls down stairs and off the sides of pavements. They flew so fast, they were impossible to see, unless of course one had their Googlehoffs on.

The glasses, handy as they were for star crest sightings also served to make Luna's face look tiny behind the large and oddly shaped frames. She had no sense of this herself, of course but Professor McGonagall had been observing her surreptitiously for the past hour, though she betrayed no hint of surprise at the peculiarities of her appearance.

The glasses, the mismatched earrings the girl was also wearing, the faded jeans that were several years behind the current fashion, it made for quite striking impression. Minerva McGonagall had been a teacher for a long number of years and in all that time, she had encountered just about every method of adolescent self expression. Changing trends, fluctuating fashions, she had witnessed plenty but none matched what she was looking at with the little girl in front of her now.

It was as if Luna had never seen how other children of her age dressed. That might be close to the truth, Professor McGonagall supposed. She and Xenophillus lived in a house miles from the nearest village. Luna had no other family and Xenophillus' eccentric beliefs meant that he lived on the fringes of the magical community. As far as Minerva knew, this was not an uncomfortable place for either father or daughter and neither had ever sought to change it.

Yet, change had found them and here sat this child in her odd attire, the over large glasses making her look even more fragile and vulnerable. Every instinct Minerva possessed warned that the girl needed to be cared for. She was far from sure that the arrangement being put in place for Luna at this exact moment would deliver that. Yet Albus was so sure that this was the best thing, the right thing and Dumbledore was seldom wrong. Minerva trusted the Headmaster implicitly but even she had to admit, it took a lot of trust to persuade her go along with his strategy.

Severus Snape as guardian for this pixie like child? The man could frighten even her at times, though there was no one to whom she would confess such a thing. The man was sharp of intellect, articulate and insightful which made him an excellent teacher. He was also dour of manner, intolerant of the shortcomings of others, and his tongue could cut deeper than the deadliest blade.

No matter how certain Albus was that placing Luna in his care was the right move, Minerva could not help but harbour doubts. This child would be chaff in a gale, how could this tiny, shy girl be anything other than hopelessly intimidated by the wrathful Master of Potions? Surely it was kindness and understanding she required. Severus, fine educator though he be, was about as nurturing as a cactus plant.

At that precise moment, a peremptory knock at Minerva's office door announced the arrival of the man himself. Luna barely glanced around as Professor McGonagall bid her guest enter. She saw the door open a man stepped into the room, robes swirling, and it looked to Luna that he was emerging from a haze of blackened smoke.

He was darkness itself, face framed by a curtain of black hair, cloaked in midnight robes but it was more than his appearance. Luna sensed that he was of shadows made, heart and soul. She looked back to the fire.

Snape had entered Professor McGonagall's office with his usual stride but was brought up short at the sight that met his eyes.

As his colleague rose to her feet to greet him, his eyes fell on the small figure seated before the fire. He caught sight of a tumble of blonde hair and the strangest get up he had ever seen, even by the flamboyant standards of some witches and wizards. What was the girl wearing on her face? Was she hiding in some sort of disguise?.

His eyes flew to Professor McGonagall's, the question in them not reaching his lips. She gave a scant shake of her head, an unspoken warning not to voice it.

"Ah, Professor Snape. Here you are then," she said. She put a hand on the shoulder of the seated girl, signalling for her to rise.

"Luna, this is Severus Snape, who has kindly agreed for you to stay with him until Xenophi… until we find your father. Severus, this is Luna," she completed the introductions, her gaze flitting between the two, her uncertainty deepening.

"If you carried a little silver in your pocket, the shuttlers wouldn't follow you quite so much. A coin or two should do it," Luna said by way of greeting. Snape glared. Then he turned to the Deputy Headmistress.

"A word, Professor if you would be so kind," his words were polite but they were bitten out through clenched teeth.

Obligingly, Minerva led the way back beyond her door, away from the fireplace and towards her own desk at the further side of the room.

"Is this a joke? What is the matter with the girl?" Snape demanded without preamble.

"As far as I can make out, nothing," Minerva answered.

"She is not what you might expect from a typical eleven year old and she is no doubt trying to cope in her own way with the shock of Xenophilllus' disappearance. Severus, I think that she merely needs some gentleness and patience," she urged but the man's face was already darkening as a frown drew his brows together.

"What would you propose I do, Professor? Arrange a tea party for the shuttlers to make her imaginary friends feel welcome also? The girl is a babbling nitwit. And what is she wearing? Is that supposed to be some kind of costume?"

"It's what she arrived in. She has some unusual things to say but Severus, she is perfectly clear that her father has vanished and she is steadfast that something is not right about it. It is only natural that she is experiencing shock. She must be terrified, poor thing," the older woman's face crinkled with a similar look of concern he had seen on Professor Dumbledore's face only moments before.

He glanced back at the girl, who was standing perfectly still, seemingly in some sort of trance.

"She is unhinged, that's what she is. Have you actually looked at her?" he demanded.

In truth, Minerva shared a little of his incredulity but she chose not to admit it.

"She is a frightened child, Severus. Are you up to this?" Her flinty blue eyes stared straight into his darker ones.

"I was not aware I had a choice in it," he sneered and stepped back towards the girl with the air of one resigned to an unpleasant task.

"Gather your things, young lady. You will accompany me to my quarters," he said briskly.

Obediently, the girl stooped and picked up a small, faded carpet bag. Snape looked at her, puzzled.

"Where is the rest of it? I will arrange for it to be sent along" he said.

"There is no more. Well except for that box. It's only my books," she said looking at what appeared to be an old fruit box. It was piled high with volumes of books, covers crinkled and clearly well handled.

He looked back at her, rose an eyebrow. He had expected suitcases and trunks worth of clothes and the tat that young girls seemingly accumulated avidly.

"Very well, come along then," he said, drawing his wand and levitating the box of books so that it glided alongside them, as if borne on air.

Luna looked up at him as she left the warmth of Professor McGonagall's office. This new guardian was tall, his expression severe. She could only see his profile but disapproval radiated from him.

He did not like her and though she could think of no reason for it, she knew that this was so. Still, he had been thoughtful enough to bring her books and was gentle in moving them. She was grateful to him for that. Luna did not possess many treasures but her small library was her pride and joy. It was what she had instead of friends.

She followed the swift pace Professor Snape set along the dark, stony corridors of the old castle. This must be a great place to live, Luna thought, watching sconces in the wall that cradled the candles that lit their way.

There must be so many interesting things to find here. How many forgotten species hid within the gloomy corners of lofty, invisible heights? Dad would love a good rummage here, she thought and once again, the idea of her father made her feel sad, so she instead concentrated on keeping up with the Potions Master.

Luna was aware they were descending lower into the castle, the air got colder and even the candles could not fully drive back the darkness that seeped around them.

At last, he came to a large oak door and with a wave of his wand, it opened before him. Snape stopped and waved his hand to indicate that she should enter ahead of him. It was an old fashioned courtesy and one Luna liked.

She stepped forward into what was his private quarters, seeing a fireplace from corner of her eye, where yet another cheery blaze flickered. There were seats of dark leather and rug beneath her feet, jade coloured, trimmed in silver threads.

"This way."

The words were more of a summons than an invite and without further study of her surrounds, Luna found herself once again following the man from the room and down a hall to a closed door. Once again, it opened upon a wave of his wand. Once again, he stood aside, indicating that she should enter but this time he did not follow her over the threshold.

It was a bedroom, neat, spartan.

"This is the guestroom. You may use it as your room for now. The bathroom is next door. The living room we have just left. Understand that this is my home. My private space and I will thank you to respect that. You will not snoop into the other rooms here and you are to touch nothing."

Snape's welcoming speech was as austere as the surroundings and Luna looked up at him and nodded.

"I won't," she said, sounding not at all offended by the coldness of his tone.

"And if you make a mess, you clean it up. I will not be picking up after you and I do not tolerate mess and clutter," he pressed on.

"That's okay," she watched his brow draw a v shape as his frown deepened.

"And take those ridiculous glasses off! How can you see a damned thing?" he snapped.

She lifted the luridly coloured glasses off and strangely, she looked even more vulnerable without them, exposed somehow, with her clear eyes looking into his.

"They are very good for seeing lots of things. Star crests, mainly. Though you don't seem to have any," she looked pleased to deliver this news.

"Well that's a weight off my mind," he growled before turning on his heel and pulling the door closed behind him, leaving the girl and her curious ramblings behind him.

Luna regarded the door for several seconds, in the wake of the Professor's unceremonious departure. Then turned and took stock of the room itself.

He was truthful when he said he didn't like clutter. The furnishings in the room consisted of a bed, an old fashioned chest of drawers, a large armoire and an oval rug, this one embroidered in charcoal and oak shades.

She went and sat on the edge of the bed. The quiet settled around her and this was a very familiar and comforting sensation for Luna. She looked to where the Potions Master had set her box of books on the rug near the door. She liked to know they were near.

Then, she opened her little bag and withdrew her copy of The Quibbler, the last one she and her Dad had produced. Luna was especially proud of the cover of this issue. "WAND ROT - KNOW THE FACTS" the headline banner proclaimed. "Frozzle bite; The real truth behind poor spelling" the tag went on. The words were emblazoned across a large drawing of a toothy, hairy creature with small black eyes and fins.

Luna opened the slim volume and paged through it until she found a loose leaf which she took out and read it once more. She knew the words printed on it by heart but she read it over just the same. The page did not belong to The Quibbler but her father had printed it.

"Harry Potter - Is the Fate of The Boy Who Lived determined by a secret prophesy? "

Luna had heard the name of the magical world's most famous wizard. A boy of her own age, Harry Potter had done the impossible and survived a killing curse cast by the most powerful wizard who had ever been. She had never met him, it was thought he was living with some muggle relatives but his whereabouts were unknown. After the night his parents had died, murdered by the same wizard who had tried to kill him, the infant Harry Potter had simply disappeared from the magical world. Meanwhile, the dark one who had tried to kill him had also mysteriously vanished, many believed destroyed by whatever powerful magic the boy possessed.

Luna had no idea how much of this was fact and how much was legend. Neither had she any idea why her father was writing about it and why he had kept it from her. They worked as a team on just about everything. She believed that whatever it was about, it had something to do with his disappearance.

She had found the page tucked into a discarded Quibbler after Dad had gone missing. For some reason, Luna had not mentioned it when the old wizard, the well known one, the one who ran this school had come and talked to her about her Dad. She had told him about the symbol of the Hollows but this, she had kept secret. Dad had clearly not want anyone to know about it, though someone had clearly suspected something. Now knowing what was going on, Luna knew not who to trust and so chose to keep her own counsel.

When a rapping knock sounded on her door, she eased the page back into her magazine.

The door opened and the black clad wizard stood on the threshold. He regarded her with no less hostility than he had when he brought her here.

"I hope you are not waiting to be invited to supper. And I do not offer room service here, young lady," he snarled at her.

She ventured a small smile at him, though it only made him scowl in response.

"Supper would be lovely," Luna said as if he had actually issued a formal invitation. Luna experienced much of life in the pages of her beloved books and they explored subjects that were as diverse as her imagination allowed. Medieval histories full of misty villages snuggled in the shadows of lost mountains shared shelf space with adolescent romances bursting with longing and promise. Biographies of great wizards and witches nestled beside tales of enchanted lockets and changeling princesses

What Luna loved best though were courtly tales full of heroism and she appreciated gallantries no matter how small they might be or even if you had to stretch the mind a bit to find them.

He glared at her and turned swiftly on his heel and she thought he was about to stalk away once again in that impatient way of his. Instead, he paused and she realised he was waiting for her and so she rose and hastened to the door. Before she did, she carefully stored her Quibbler and its secret page back in her bag. He had not given it a second glance.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 **DISCLAIMER - None of these delightful characters are mine, all belong to JK Rowling.**

Luna's first morning in the home of the stern Professor Snape began with a little ritual she and her father had devised at their cottage many years ago. She was up at first light and, taking a handful of bottle caps from her carpet bag, she looked about for some of the sylvan thread her father kept at home. She could not find any so, Luna improvised and pulled a long stretch of red ribbon she kept for her hair. On this, she threaded the bottle caps and set to work.

Ten minutes later and she was satisfied that her efforts were complete. And so to breakfast. Professor Snape was no where in sight and so, Luna thought he was still asleep and would appreciate having a meal ready for him when he got up for work.

It was not easy to find her way around his kitchen, for one thing it was much smaller than the one at home and for another, Luna barely recognised much of what she found in the cupboards. She and her father usually had blackberry tea and maple strips but she could nothing resembling either in the Professor' neatly appointed kitchen.

Neither could she locate anything that looked like duck's eggs and so, Luna had to make do with the brown eggs that were in the fridge. They were much smaller than the lovely blue duck's eggs her father kept their fridge stocked with at home.

Nevertheless, Luna set to scrambling the ones from the fridge and confused by the difference in size, was unsure how many would yield the same portions. Then she realised that she did not know how big her host's appetite was and so, she chose to err on the side of generosity and used most of the dozen eggs from the box.

She was setting two plates on the table when a roar made her jump and she dropped the cutlery with a clang.

"What is the meaning of this?"

The snarling yell reverberated along the corridor, accompanied by the discordant tingling of metal being roughly shaken. Then, Professor Snape was stalking into the dining room as though propelled by gale force winds.

Luna was kneeling to retrieve the fallen cutlery when he entered and she looked up and could hardly see his face, which seemed very far away. Mostly all Luna saw was a flurry of coal black.

He stooped down, gripped her arm and hauled her upwards with such force, Luna was actually lifted off her feet.

"What did I tell you about making a mess?" Snape bent so low, his nose was almost touching hers.

Luna looked up into eyes that flamed with annoyance and thought hard about what might have sparked it.

"You said you wouldn't be cleaning up after me," Luna supplied, sounding not at all disturbed by his less than cheery morning greeting.

"Correct. And yet day one and here I am, cleaning up this rattling contraption that I assume is your handiwork!" he ground out, lifting his hand which has fisted around a red ribbon dotted with the bottle caps.

"Oh, I see what you mean," Luna responded, reaching out to take back the ribbon. She had to practically prise it from his hand.

"It's a fry tack. It's not quite as good as one made with spider web thread but it is a fair substitute," she said.

"You are not to leave your toys thrown about here willy nilly. I thought I was clear about that. And yet, here was that thing stretched across the floor where it almost knocked me down!," Snape's irritation did not dim.

"It's not a toy. It's to keep the loytroops at bay. We find them very useful," Luna supplied helpfully but if anything, Snape's expression darkened yet further.

He reached out a long fingered hand, snatched the fry tack from her, and his wand was suddenly in his other hand. With a vicious little pop, the home made implement vanished.

"Well I do not!" he snapped.

It was only then that Snape took in the scene in his dining room. The table was partially set for a meal, mismatched cups sat on saucers, two plates were set opposite each other and between them, a bowl containing what looked like a mountain of some sort of yellow lumps.

He squinted, then glanced back at the girl. She was holding two knives, two forks and she was looking at him, that strange half smile on her face, looking like she had just invented the magic wand.

"What is going on?" he asked in a quieter tone though he was starting to suspect. By way of confirmation, he leaned a little closer to the steaming mound on the middle of the table, sniffed and realised it wasn't a heap of lumps, it was a gigantic pile of scrambled eggs,

"Breakfast, of course," Luna supplied and resumed setting the table.

"Breakfast is not served…." the reprimand was halfway out of his mouth before Snape thought to silence it.

The girl would not know that he ate breakfast in the Great Hall with the other staff. And she would not be able to join him there, she was not yet a student at this school.

She looked up at him, vaguely curious.

"Breakfast is not served without toast. Why don't you finish what you are doing and I will see to it," he said instead and frowned when he looked again at the eggs. Had she used every one?

"Thank you, Professor," Luna said.

Snape pursed his lips. The girl was nothing if not polite. Her manners were almost flawless. With the noted exception of her fondness for the eccentric. Well, there would be no cluttering up his home with fry tacks or star crests or any other nonsense her father had filled her head with for far too long.

Snape summoned a house elf to fetch the toast, sat with thinly veiled impatience as Luna engaged the creature in a protracted discussion about the medicinal effects of sugar lumps for non human magical folk.

Five minutes in and the little elf was gazing at her as though she was commanding the universe to spin on its axis. She had not been here for long enough to complete one meal and she had disrupted his orderly routine and home almost beyond recognising.

When she and the elf embarked on an inventory of elvish folk songs, he could stand it no more.

"That will do," he dismissed the elf peremptorily and as the little creature vanished with a faint pop, he regarded the girl, his expression schooled and cold.

"Have you finished eating?" he asked.

"Oh yes. Thank you," she replied and made to stand.

"Sit down. I want to ask you about a few things," his words were not issued as an invitation.

She lowered herself back into her chair and waited for him to begin. There was something about her calmness, her resignation that unnerved Snape. She was a young girl. Shouldn't there be hysterics and fluctuations of mood? Tears and pouting? So far, she had shown not one hint of any emotion apart from a disconcerting acceptance of her Fate.

His face showed none of his confusion. He set his dark gaze upon her,

"But first, I think there is something we need to get out of the way," he began.

"Yes. I don't know how to address you And I don't think you know what to call me. It is a little awkward," she met his eyes steadily.

Again he was discomfited. Why couldn't she talk like other children her age, for crying out loud?

"You will address me as Professor or Sir. Outside of my private quarters or my house, where we will spend the summer when term ends in a few days. At home, you may address me by my first name. Severus," he said.

"I am too young to really be called Miss Lovegood. So far you haven't called me anything much. Luna will be fine," she said in return.

He rose a brow at this formal exchange.

"Which is not surprising as it is afterall, your name."

His sarcasm clearly didn't ruffle her.

"Yes," she said as though they had settled something of great import. Snape frowned again. Cleared his throat. Time to get this conversation back on track.

"Your father. What do you know of what happened to him?" The Potions Master asked.

His directness did not seem to catch her off guard but at the mention of her father, Snape saw her eyes cloud, not with tears but with sadness.

"He just disappeared. I went to bed and he was there, working on a new article for the Quibbler, the next morning, he was gone. But the chain he always wore, with the Deathly Hallows, that was lying on the floor beside his chair. That's how I knew something was wrong. He would not have left without it. Or me," she said.

"And he didn't mention any reason he might have had to go away at all?"

"No."

"Has he ever done this before?" Snape went on.

"Never."

"Luna, do you think he had trouble of any kind? Was there anything unusual about .. Things before he went away?" Even to his own ears, Snape's question sounded daft. Everything about Zenophillus Lovegood was unusual. How could she possibly tell the difference?

"No. Nothing," she sounded absolute, definite.

"I told you, Severus. He would not leave without me."

What he did not know was if she believed this because it was true or if it was the confidence of a child who could not accept she had been abandoned by a shiftless parent.

"The Quibbler article he was working on, what was it about?" he asked almost as an after thought. He was already halfway to his feet.

"How daisy petals could make much better flight propellers than willow twigs in new brooms. It was a very powerful piece, could have really rocked the wizarding world but he was gone before we published it."

Her answer brought his lips up in a disdainful sneer. So investigative journalism had not led him to rattle the wrong cages.

"Severus. Can you find him?"

He had turned away but her question brought him up short. He turned slowly, regarded the girl who was sitting perfectly still. She was looking up at him with such an expression of open hope that he felt his own breath catch.

"I can promise you that Professor Dumbledore and myself will do all that we can, Luna."

She looked into his deep, black eyes. Saw no sympathy for her plight there. No pity or the condescension that many adults fell into when conversing with children.

It was the look he would have given an equal and Luna heard his answer, noted the absence of an empty promise and felt enormously consoled by that. She knew something bad had happened to her dad, she just knew it. And grown ups patting her on the head and telling her everything would be fine could not reassure her otherwise.

This man promising to do something about it, well that made her feel a whole lot better.

"Thank you, Severus,"

Again those almost old fashioned manners and genteel speech.

"You are welcome, child," he sighed.

He left to get ready for the day ahead. Exams were almost over, parchments were piling up for him to read and grade.

But he figured this soft spoken, scrap of a girl was going to present him with far more work.

The quiet ones could always be relied upon to test every reserve you ever had.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 **DISCLAIMER - None of these delightful characters are mine, all belong to JK Rowling.**

"And your houseguest, Severus? How has she settled in?" the warm gaze of Professor Dumbledore twinkled at him but Snape scowled as though he has tasted something sour.

He was seated in his customary place at the staff table in the Great Hall, the evening meal just concluding. As the conversation around them dwindled, the Headmaster had turned and directed his question softly to the Potions Master.

"I have not poisoned her or fed her to the giant squid," Snape returned and Dumbledore chuckled good naturedly.

"I am sure it is an adjustment for both of you," he said.

Snape pursed his lips.

"And of her father, Severus? Have you heard anything that might shed some light on his whereabouts?"

"I can assure you that if I had, I would already be there," Snape was fervent.

"But there is not even a whisper, nothing to suggest a sinister motive. Which would seem to point to his disappearance being a voluntary one. Except…," the wizard's voice tapered as his thoughts circled once more to the earnest eyes of his young ward pleading with him to find her father.

Her certainty plagued him, slowly eroding his confidence that Xenophillus had simply fallen into one of his own fantasies.

Dumbledore regarded him silently, waiting for him to find expression for his thoughts.

"Luna is absolute that her father would not leave her of his own volition. She is unshakeable on that," Snape finished quietly.

He had been gently probing old contacts in the past day or so, careful not to appear too interested in the fate of Xenophillus Lovegood but found contemptuous mirth was the prevailing attitude when the subject came up.

Snape had also dipped into other, less overt ways to probe the mystery but these avenues also were proving frustratingly devoid of answers. What he did know was that the missing man had exercised no magic since he was last seen and his meagre account at Gringotts had not been touched.

"How is she coping, Severus?"

"I already told you Headmaster that I would not be holding her hand and having heart to hearts over warm milk," a muscle in Snape's jaw twitched.

"If what she needs is someone to blubber her every thought to, then she is at the wrong address. She has a roof over her head and she is more than amply fed. Anything more than that and I am not the one to provide it," the Head of Slytherin clipped out his words.

In fact, over the past two days, he had seen little enough of his young guest. His days were spent in his office in the dungeons correcting end of term parchments. It was an excellent vent for the exasperation he felt at having to open his home to a child he did not know and the complete lack of progress in the search for her father. The numbers of those failing Potions this year were climbing in direct proportion to the number of days the imposition endured.

When he returned to his quarters in the evening, Luna was usually in her room and he did not seek her out. His only concession to his unwelcome living arrangement was to take breakfast in his quarters, which he did now every morning. He left instructions for one of the castle's house elves to prepare the meal, fearing a repeat of Luna's excesses of the first day.

The Headmaster's questions made Snape a little uncomfortable. It was true that he had allowed Luna into his home, provided for her basic care but had extended himself little towards her otherwise. So he cleared his throat and rose to his feet now, before Dumbledore could ask if he had repainted the girl's room in shades of pink and bought her a pony.

"Being alone is a seldom a choice for us, Severus," the older wizard's words were almost lost in the noise of feet hurrying from the hall, the cheerful exchanges between the exiting students.

The twinge of discomfort sharpened. Another man might have believed it was guilt. Snape dismissed the idea with a shake of his head. What had he to feel guilty about? Afterall, it was he who had shouldered the burden of putting up the girl. How was it that Dumbledore could manage to make him

feel like the villain in the piece?

He stalked along the corridor, mood blackening at the exchange in the Great Hall. Was it not enough that he had given up his privacy, the comfort of his own home for a child that was not his responsibility? His robes whipped about his shoes and clusters of students scattered before him, recognising when the Head of Slytherin was in boiling temper and best avoided.

He swept into his quarters like an arctic gale and was brought up short by the sight of a fire crackling merrily in the hearth and the girl sitting cross legged before his bookshelves.

He scowled and dark anger churned in his gut. His eyes flashed and in two seconds he had crossed the floor to take hold of her arm and yank her to her feet.

"How dare you touch my things!" he snarled through clenched teeth.

The girl blinked at him showing no hint of fear or shock at the roughness of his address.

He shook her, taking grim satisfaction in the exertion of this small show of power.

"I do not wish to have the boogeyman in my shelving exorcised or the heebeejeebies in my books categorised! Whatever foolish, half witted phantom magic you are dabbling in stops now. Get your head out of the clouds and your hands out of my belongings!"

He thrust her away from him, in the vague direction of her room but Luna stood her ground and looked up at him, unflinching in the face of his displeasure.

"I forget myself, Severus. Dad always sort of liked it when I did a little spring cleaning," she said.

"Well I am not him!" he glowered at her, his eyes lit with a malicious fury.

"And we can tell the difference by the fact that I am here, rather unlike your precious, vanishing father!"

He spat the words and the second they were out of his mouth, he would have traded his wand to call them back.

The already pale child before him seemed to deflate. The little colour in her face drained, the light in her eyes dimmed.

Still, no tears came and she did not respond with a show of anger of her own.

"Yes."

That was all she said. Her composure was as unruffled as always and her tone was quiet and without defiance.

But she turned and walked from him as though retreating from the sight of unspeakable carnage.

Snape stood alone in the living room, his feelings of spite souring in his stomach. He turned on his heel, paced across the faded rug before the hearth. He told himself the ugly scene was not his fault. Curse Dumbledore and his schemes and his pestering demands. It was he who had thrown him in at the deep end. Hadn't he been perfectly clear that parenting was not his thing?

Snape closed his eyes. He could deceive anyone he'd ever met. With one exception. Himself.

He resumed his pacing and as he crossed the room, his eyes lit on his shelves, where row upon row of books rose to the ceiling. His steps stilled as his eyes took in what they were looking at.

The titles were perfectly aligned, each in its rightful place, the spines neatly facing outward, the shelves glistening like new wood. To arrange the collection so perfectly, to shine every inch of surface would have taken hours.

He frowned deeply, the rancid feeling within himself intensifying. He glanced over his shoulder to the corridor leading to the girl's bedroom. There was silence around him except for the sound of his own breathing. And even that sounded like a condemnation to him.

Snape turned once more and made for the door, closing it quietly behind him as he went once more back into the dark recesses of the castle.

Luna heard the soft thunk of the outer door as it closed and knew the Professor had left. Still she stayed in her room. She lay on the narrow bed, atop the duvet, making no move to climb under it. She wasn't sleepy, she simply sank into the silence. Afterall, there was nowhere else to turn.

And that's where she was when a quiet knock sounded on her door. She knew that some time had passed, how much, she was not sure.

She guessed that the Professor had come to apologise and she knew that the polite thing to do was to rise and accept graciously. Yet for all of that, Luna could not move a single muscle.

The door opened and his footsteps sounded on the rug.

"Luna? Are you asleep?"

Now his voice was low, he was speaking in that cultured way that reminded her of lost worlds where princes rode shining steeds and lived in gilded towers.

"No."

"I should not have said what I did. It was needlessly cruel and I apologise," Snape was sincere, she heard it in his words.

Still, she did not turn around. She simply could not face the sight of those black eyes mocking and uncaring.

"I hurt you."

The declaration was honest and to this, Luna responded. She sat up and looked at him, here gaze travelling upwards to find his face.

"Yes."

Her reply carried an equal measure of honesty and Snape heard it.

"I am sorry for that. I allowed my temper to get the better of me. I cannot promise you that it won't happen again. Luna, I am used to my solitude and I like it. I am well aware that I am churlish and a bully when it suits. But I give you my word that I will try to afford you the courtesy you have so far shown to me."

He paused and gave her a long look.

"I saw the books. You did an excellent job. And I thank you."

It was the longest speech she had ever heard him make. And she wasn't tempted for even a heartbeat to play upon his apology.

"Okay then. Well, you are welcome," she nodded at him and gifted him with that dreamy little shadow smile.

It made Snape feel as though he had been called back into the light after a long winter. He set something she could not see on top of the locker by her bed and turned to take his leave.

She looked down and saw a shining spool of thread, woven from glinting, silvery and very fine spider's web. Luna smiled a real smile this time, feeling stupidly happy at the sight.

"Sylvan thread! Thank you Severus," she. beamed at him.

Snape stopped and gave her a bemused glance. Was there any way to unravel what went on in that head of hers? He had ranted at her, flung thoughtless barbs at her and here she was grinning gratefully because he had given her thread?

He stopped at her door and crooked a finger at her. When she was standing in front of him, he dropped his head so his eyes met hers.

"If I see so much as a sign of a hire track.."

"Frytack"

"Anywhere outside of your room and that thread is going into the bin!" he fixed a stern look on his face.

Her smile widened.

"Okay then."

And just like that Snape felt lighter, felt the unwieldy burden of guilt dissipate.

He would have to watch his step. This imp like child would have him wrapped around her finger if he did not keep a good eye on her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 **DISCLAIMER - None of these delightful characters are mine, all belong to JK Rowling.**

Luna let herself into the Professor's rooms, carrying a large armful of mayflower. She had gathered the pretty white blooms in a hedgerow close to the lake. As well as looking so nice, the flowers were commonly used as shelters by felicities, the dainty and miniscule old English pixies. They were almost an endangered species, due in part to the trouble they had relocating after the summer.

Luna liked the idea that by keeping the delicate little flowers in water indoors, she was helping the little creatures within to migrate to other, more long term homes, like beneath lampshades and such.

"Where are your shoes, Luna?"

She had been thinking so much about the felicities, that she hadn't noticed her guardian was at home.

She looked around and he was seated at the table, a neat pile of parchments stacked by his elbow. He was watching her quizzically.

"Oh, they will turn up soon, I expect," she said, sounding unperturbed.

He rose an eyebrow at her, watching as she carefully deposited the mayflower on the stone of the hearth. The flowers were lovely but the branches were quite thorny.

Careful as she had been, she had pricked the skin on her hands in several places. She rubbed her palms together to lessen the sting.

He looked down at the floor, she had tracked damp footprints all the way from the door.

Luna followed his gaze and realised her socks were sodden. The ground outside was rather wet, even though it was early summer. Today was crisp and dry but there had been showers over the past couple of days.

"Turn up? Weren't you wearing them?"

She nodded at him.

"Oh yes. But sometimes, people take them. They mean it as a joke, I'm sure and I always manage to find them," she sat on the couch and pulled off the soggy footwear.

Snape lowered his quill and rose from the table. He had just finished the last of his corrections.

"People? Do you mean students?" he narrowed his eyes.

Luna nodded.

"Yes. They are a bit high spirited but they mean no harm," she said. Luna was used to other children reacting to her in ways that were not entirely friendly. She was different and that always attracted attention.

The Professor was scowling and she assumed the footprints had annoyed him.

"I'll have that cleaned up in a jiffy," she smiled vaguely at him but that only seemed to make his expression grow more fierce.

"You are not a house elf, child!" he growled at her.

Then, he was standing in front of her, towering over her as he so often did and Luna had to strain to look up to see his face.

"Show me your hands."

Obediently, she held out her hands, palms outward and he took them in his own, larger ones, turning them over and tutting as he observed the vicious little scratches on her skin.

"Stay here," he was turning away even as uttered the brisk command.

He walked from the room and was gone for several seconds. When he came back, he was carrying a jar of the most luminescent green ointment Luna had ever seen. This time he sat beside her on the couch.

"Hands," he ordered again, holding out his own.

He opened the jar and began to apply the glowing liniment to the tiny cuts on her hands. The cream felt cool on her skin and he was surprising gentle as he applied it. Luna felt the itchy smarting ease almost immediately.

"That's much better, thank you, Severus," she said, inspecting his handiwork appreciatively.

"The day after tomorrow we will leave here, Luna. I spend the summer at my house in Spinner's End and you will be accompanying me," he told her.

Luna liked the castle and she loved the huge grounds that she was free to wander at will, so long as she stayed well away from the dark forest at the edges in accordance with the Professor's stern instruction to do so.

The gamekeeper, Hagrid, a huge giant of man with a jolly laugh and twinkly eyes was a new friend for her and sometimes he let Luna accompany him on his rounds, telling her all about creatures with strange names and it reminded her a little of her father. She would miss Hagrid. Still, she was curious about the Professor's other home.

"Is it far from here?" she asked him.

"A bit, yes. We will aparate there from Hogsmeade, the village a few miles from the school," he said.

Then, a thought came to her and it was Luna's turn to frown. She lifted troubled eyes to her guardian.

"Severus, what if my father comes back? How will know where to find me?"

Snape met her eyes with a steady gaze of his own.

"If Xenophilius turns up, I will know. Professor Dumbledore is also keeping an ear to the ground. If he comes looking for you, Luna I will have you to him in the blink of an eye."

Luna sighed, content with the answer. Her guardian did not make hasty promises for the sake of reassuring her. He did not talk to her as if she were a child, in need of sheltering from the truth and she liked him immensely for that. More than that, Luna had come to trust him, dark and dour though he was most of the time. He always meant what he said.

And right now, he was being very nice to her and he had made her sore hands feel better.

And so, she told him how she was sure she had heard mer folk singing today, their voices rising from beneath the smooth surface of the lake. And how Hagrid had shown her a baby thestral and how it was loveliest thing she had ever seen.

Snape listened to her recounting her day and was surprised to find that he had no desire to silence her chatter with a cutting dismissal.

Instead, he noted privately that she seemed not to miss the company of children her own age and wondered at that. Shouldn't she want friends and the companionship of other young people? Then he remembered her shoeless entry earlier and he felt a primal fury stirring inside himself.

He looked down at her, blond hair tumbling from untidy braids, almost hiding her face. Her hands were small enough for both to fit in one of his own and even standing at her full height, she was barely halfway up his chest. Just a tiny girl and so alone and something about the idea of a student here making an object of fun out of her made him seethe. Happily, he knew just what to do about it.

Filch, the Hogwarts caretaker looked rather happy too when he consulted him the following morning. By the time Snape was finished, he was beaming a yellow toothed smile that would have made the skin of a more sensitive person crawl.

"It has come to my attention that some of the students here have been having amusing themselves at the expense of my ward, Argus," Snape intoned heavily.

"Some are Ravenclaws, I understand but the greater number are, regrettably from my own House," he continued.

Luna had been silent as to the identities of the shoe thieves, refusing to be drawn even on their general description. It took a little detective work to glean the information he had.

"Don't know their places, those brats," Filch grumbled.

Snape inclined his head approvingly.

"Ordinarily, I would deal with the Slytherins myself, Argus but I do not want to be seen to be showing my ward special treatment over students in my House. So I decided the best course of action is to delegate the task of teaching the perpetrators a little lesson," he went on.

Filch's eyes gleamed hungrily. This was the sort of offer he usually only ever got to dream about. A free hand to discipline unruly students, it was better than Christmas.

"I know just what to do, Professor," he said, his intent barely masked.

Snape gave him an encouraging smile.

"I am sure. None-the-less, we must not upset the more tender minded sensibilities of the Headmaster, Argus. What I have in mind is more along the lines of a special expedition. A sort end of term, safari, if you will," Snape continued.

"The Forest?" Filch's grin widened, the glint in his eyes hardened.

Snape nodded once.

"I am sure that you are best placed to know how to put the talents of some would be ne'er do wells to best use, Argus. I defer to your judgement," Snape said.

Ten minutes later, he was striding purposefully from his office. He was perfectly content in the knowledge that Misses Wormwood, Trevellyan and Dandridge along with Messrs Humphries and Mapp would be spending their last day of term knee deep in hippogriff droppings and expecting to meet a sticky and untimely demise at the hands of something gruesome with every passing second.

That evening, her last at the castle, Luna spent it tidying away the paltry sum of her belongings. Her books, she filed lovingly into the old box that she had brought them in and her meagre pile of clothes, she folded and packed back into her bag.

In the morning, she would take the mayflowers to Hagrid's, he had promised to make sure the felicities had ample time to relocate at his hut. She picked up the Quibbler and checked it quickly. The Harry Potter page was still safely tucked within. She had an inkling that she should tell the Professor about it but held back. Her father had made a point of guarding this publication. She felt that she must also at least until she had a clearer idea what it meant.

Rumours were circulating feverishly around the school that Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived would come to Hogwarts next term. Perhaps she would be able to find out a little more about him and what the prophesy might refer to. He may have the answer and so, Luna folded away the sheet, returning it to its hiding place.

After she had finished packing, there was only one thing left to do and so, she settled herself comfortably on her bed and set to work.

The following morning, Luna could barely sit still long enough to finish her breakfast. The previous evening, the Professor had foregone the traditional end of term feast in the Great Hall with the students and the other teachers. He had chosen to eat supper in his quarters with her instead, a gesture that Luna very much appreciated.

She insisted on thanking him, once or twice but finally he had glowered sternly at her over the crumbs of his dessert and warned her that ten thanks yous was over the top and if she uttered an eleventh he would cast a silencing spell on her.

"I am here because I have no desire to see Minerva McGonagall gloat over Gryffindor winning the house cup again this year. And while I am here, I might remind you that we leave early in the morning. No dallying and what you have not packed gets left behind," he had warned.

But he had ordered a mug of hot cocoa from the Hogwarts kitchens for her before bedtime while he poured himself a measure of fire whiskey from a tumbler on the sideboard. She sat in a chair in front of the fire opposite him, each sipping their drinks and Luna felt for the first time in many days that she was safe.

And now, she was off to Spinner's End. Their luggage had been magical transported and would be waiting for them at the Professor's house. So, after breakfast, they had set out for Hogsmeade. The Professor said that seeing as it was such nice weather, they would walk to the village. If Luna had to hurry a little more than she was used to in order to match his swift stride, well, she didn't mind so much.

Around them, students were also filing towards the station and Luna noted how many of them kept a wide distance from her grimly faced guardian. Those who did pass by them spoke deferentially and appeared in an awful hurry to get away.

"The students are quite nervous around you," she remarked at last.

He looked down his hooked nose, his dark eyes almost glinting.

"Indeed, Luna," he agreed.

"It's the shuttlers. I knew it," she nodded sagely.

"Good old shuttlers," he said with just a shade of mirth in his voice.

"I can help you with that. I made you something," she reached into her pocket and withdrew the small, square pouch, made of soft shammy cloth, with precise and neat stitching around three sides. She had worked late last night to finish it after she was done packing.

She extended it to him now and Snape was so taken aback, he came to an abrupt stop.

He took the little holder from her and slid from it a silver disc, engraved with little silver stars on one side and a sickle moon on the other. He turned it over in his palm several times and then looked at the girl.

"Well, I made the pouch myself. The coin is one that Dad gave me but you can keep it. We have plenty more. Handy for keeping the shuttlers under control," she explained.

His brows drew together and for a moment, she thought he was cross about it. She knew that he did not wholly subscribe to some of the things she believed. But his lips lifted in a small smile.

"Thank you, Luna. I am sure that it will be very useful," he said, closing his fingers over the disc and its protective casing. He pocketed it and resumed walking.

In the tiny village, with its stone cottages and clustered shops, he stopped by a tall, antique lamppost.

He extended his arm towards her.

"Have you accompanied someone apparating before, Luna?" he asked.

She nodded firmly.

"Oh yes. I've been on side along apparitions with Dad a few times," she said and he found this answer a pleasing one.

It wasn't a strictly pleasant way to travel if you weren't used to it.

"Take my arm," he said and suddenly, the quaint little village was whirling away in a dizzying vortex and the next thing Luna knew, she was standing in front of the wooden doorway of a red bricked house on the end of a neat street.

Snape lifted his wand and the door opened before them. He indicated with his hand that she should precede him inside.

"Welcome to Spinner's End, Luna. Make yourself at home, " he said, following her over the threshold.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 **DISCLAIMER - None of these delightful characters are mine, all belong to JK Rowling.**

Spinner's End was nothing like Ottery St. Catchpole, Luna soon discovered. She had grown up in the drowsy little village with its thatched cottages and leaning chimneys that puffed blue smoke bejewelled with occasional sparks from the fires that burned in the hearths below. Spinner's End was a lively town that sat at the end of a hill, at the top of which nestled the row of houses where the Professor lived.

Luna liked to stroll around the streets, feeling completely anonymous among the mid day shoppers or the muggles hurrying home from their work in the early evening.

The Professor forbade her to wear her googlehoffs outside of the house, he said that the magical community must not call attention to themselves by dressing differently to their muggle counterparts.

For all of that, Luna easily recognised other witches and wizards when she encountered them out and about in the town. There was a man who wore a purple suit and whose bowler hat spun impatiently when it rained.

And one of Snape's neighbours, a woman who lived just a few doors down had curlers in her hair that made mewling sounds like contented kittens.

Severus said that this was Mrs. Honeyflower and she was bats and paid her no further mind. In the days since they arrived at Spinner's End, he had maintained as solitary an existence as he had at the school.

There were no visits from friends, no-one dropped in for a chat or to borrow a cup of sugar and he never entertained.

This reminded Luna very much of the way she and her father had lived, it had been just the two of them too and she had liked it very well.

When they first arrived, Severus had pointed at some shelves in a parlour room he used as a library.

"You may put your books there. If you need more space, let me know," he had said.

This had made Luna feel more welcome than if he had rolled out a red carpet. Content that the silver coin was clearly making good progress with the shuttlers, Luna had lovingly encased her books in the appointed space and in the evenings, if she felt like reading, which she mostly did, she joined the silent Professor in the library, where he was usually to be found, nose buried in a tome of his own.

Luna came to love those evenings in his library. Outside, the long summer day would be drawing to a pink close, the opalescent night sky twinkling with far away stars. Within, the room glowed with the soft gold light from the old fashioned lantern that hung from the ceiling. Severus kept jugs of butterbeer for her in the pantry and she could fill herself a mug of the foaming, amber drink to sip from as she read.

The only shadow that hung over the contented days in Spinner's End was the lack of good news, or indeed any news concerning her father. Several days in the week, Severus was away from the house for long hours. He told her little in detail of his activities but he did say that he was doing all that he could to glean information on Xenophilius' whereabouts.

Those evenings, he often returned late but Luna waited for him. He would find her, sitting in the living room, curled into the window seat or kneeling by the hearth, and the hopeful look that he saw when she lifted her face to him always made his heart ache a little.

He had begun to share her belief that something sinister had befallen her absent parent, for he had simply vanished without a trace.

Such disappearances were once a common, though dread occurrence but there had been none since the demise of the Dark Lord. The similarities between this one and those of twelve years ago were hard to ignore. Though Severus was sickened at the ominous indication, he could not ignore what they might mean.

He was not a stupid man and he had long and bitter experience of a world he'd as soon forget. And so, he began to approach the investigation into the missing man's whereabouts with a growing belief that he was stepping once more over a threshold beyond which lurked a darkness that could never know light.

What to tell the child, though? He had resolved not to lie to her but yet, he did not wish to crush the fragile hope that she was striving to keep alive.

So, one evening as he returned, she stepped out into the hall, just as he was taking off his cloak.

"You're back. Did you find out anything?" she asked, standing framed in the doorway of the living room.

"Let me catch my breath, child," he sighed.

"Oh, of course. Maybe you'd like something to eat?" she was already moving towards the kitchen.

"No, no. Luna, I am fine. Come. We will talk, though I have little enough to tell you. I am sorry."

He looked down into her clear, green eyes, his brow furrowing.

He indicated that they should go into the room she had just vacated and she settled beside him on the couch as he lowered his frame tiredly onto it.

"Did you find anything new at all, Severus?" she asked, not able to disguise the disappointment in her voice.

"No. None of the acquaintances known to your father can tell me anything," he admitted. Seeing her crestfallen expression he titled his head.

"Which is not to say that he won't contact someone. I am not giving up, Luna," he said gently.

"And if he doesn't contact his friends, old contacts from The Quibbler?" her troubled gaze did not waver.

Snape knew what she was asking. He held her eyes to his and thought how to answer.

"Luna, if he uses his wand, casts even the smallest spell, I can track it. Someone knows something and I will not stop until I find them," he said quietly but firmly.

Again, Luna noted that he had not promised her father was alright, that he would be found safely. Though they were words she longed to hear, Luna respected the honesty he was showing her.

"Thank you for not fobbing me off with what you think I want to hear," she said earnestly.

"I won't make a promise I cannot keep. But I give you my word that I will not stop looking until I find out where your father is and what has happened to him," Severus was equally earnest and his eyes stayed trained unblinkingly on her own.

"I don't feel like reading tonight. I think I will just go to bed," she said and he nodded wordlessly.

She lay on her bed, then got up and sat at her dressing table, brushing her hair out. Then, she knelt on her bed and gazed down at the street below her window. The moon was bright, the sky clear. A cat prowled along the top of the next door neighbour's wall. She watched its elegant progress and then it disappeared behind a leafy bush at the side of the houses. The rest of the street was empty, perfectly still.

Luna watched the still scene for endless moments, one drifting into the next, nothing changing. In fact, she quite forgot time altogether until at some point, there was the clanging sound of something metallic falling over. This was followed by a loud yowl from the cat and a few seconds later, it hared away in the opposite direction from whatever had toppled over to startle it.

The little disruption had jolted Luna out of her reverie. She came back to herself and realised that she had been sitting there feeling quite sorry for herself, hoping to evaporate like summer mist.

Here she was in a nice room, in a nice house and she had a friend who was trying very hard to make things right for her. The Professor was downstairs, having spent a long day pursuing leads to find her Dad. He was supposed to be on holidays, he was a busy man in his own right. Feeling guilty for the ingratitude she was showing, Luna got to her feet once again and made her way back to the living room.

Snape was still seated on the couch where she had left him and as Luna drew closer, she realised he had fallen asleep. His legs were stretched out before him, ankles crossed, arms folded over his chest. She turned, not wanting to disturb him.

"Luna."

She stopped, surprised that he had heard her afterall.

"I am sorry if I woke you."

"You didn't. Whatever it is, spit it out," he said, still stretched languorously on the couch.

"I just wanted to say thank you. For everything you are doing to help me," Luna nodded and turned away again.

"It's nothing, You are welcome."

"And I do appreciate that you haven't tried to sugar coat things. Adults do that all the time but it doesn't ever help, really," Luna came back to the doorway.

"Very well."

She took three steps toward the stairway and turned once more.

"Severus?"

"If you are about to thank me again, for anything, stop right there or I will put you in a body bind and leave you in your room until you begin to show better sense!" he grumbled at her.

"I was going to say you won't sleep very well on the couch. Cushions are a favourite haunt of yezzirs. Their sting is supposed to be quite unforgettable," she supplied.

"It's the yezzirs likely to keep me awake is it?" he opened one eye and gave her a glare from beneath his brow.

"They must haunt more than the cushions on my couch. You aren't looking so drowsy yourself," he drawled.

Then he lifted an arm to her.

"Come here."

The invitation had her scurrying to him without a second's hesitation. She hopped onto the couch and cuddled against him, enormously comforted by the feel of his arm around her.

"Severus?"

"Yes, love?"

"I would be alone if it wasn't for you. That would be really frightening, I think. I am glad you are here."

He said nothing more but Dumbledore's observation flitted across his mind. We are seldom alone by choice, or words to that effect.

He looked down at the child snuggling against his shoulder and remembered again his own foreboding that this one was going to give him some trouble.

"Is that a tennis racket with feathers hanging over the front door?" he asked.

"It's called a failt. It guides people safely home if they have to go away. I thought it would help you today," she replied, her voice slightly muffled against his shirt.

He had started to suspect the true purpose of her strange, handcrafted charms, which always seemed to turn up in unexpected places, no matter how many times he told her to put them away.

They were her shields when the world threw things at her that scared her or she couldn't explain. And in this, he was surprised to find something of himself. If anyone believed in the value of emotional armour, it was him, in fact he had just about forgotten how to live without it.

"And the saucepan lid balancing on a brick at the front door?"

"Oh that's all I could find to feed a stray cat that keeps coming around. He likes his milk from it," she supplied, perfectly matter of fact.

A surprised chuckle escaped him.

"Miss Lovegood, you will make an old man of me," he said but she didn't reply.

He glanced down to see that she had fallen into a deep sleep.

The following morning, Luna woke in her bed and realised that the Professor must have carried her to her room the night before. The last thing she could remember was feeling marvellously comforted and safe as he cuddled her.

She climbed from the bed, padded across the rug and reached into her bag. She lifted out her hidden Quibbler and removed the secret page from it. She folded it and slipped it into the pocket of her jeans, resolving to show it to Severus at breakfast. He was doing so much to help find her dad, this could well give him the vital clue.

However, when Luna went downstairs, it was to find a small parchment note on the table, addressed to her in his neat and precise hand.

"Luna. I will be away for a number of hours. I have some Hogwarts business to attend to and made an early start. I do not expect to be late. Severus."

Then; "PS - The duck eggs in the fridge are for you. Help yourself as I do not care for them."

Luna smiled at the solicitousness of leaving a note and was already contemplating the various breakfast options presented by the stock of duck eggs.

Before she had cracked the first one, she became aware of a faint sense of unease but she could not identify its source. Had she forgotten something? She considered but that did not seem to be it.

Then, a glance at the kitchen window had her gasping as the little black cat she had befriended hopped suddenly and silently onto the windowsill. Strangely, the cat did not perch in front of the glass with his usual casual confidence. Instead, he pawed impatiently at the pane, mewling incessantly although Luna could not hear the sound with the window closed.

It was as if she had transmitted her apprehension to him, though that could not be true. She could not even explain it to herself.

She could not deny that it was deepening in intensity and Luna no longer felt like breakfast. She really wanted to be outside and she found her self pulling on a jacket and opening the door before her mind truly caught up with the decision.

The little cat seemed to approve of the impetuous choice and trotted jauntily along behind her as she set off down the hill. Luna didn't know where she was going or why but she was glad to be out of the house, glad to feel the weight of the restlessness recede as she moved further towards the town.

Before she had gone more than a few metres, the sky above seemed to fill with clouds, black, storm filled, they looked as though they were blown in on the breath of the world's anger.

They moved with an unnatural speed and more strangely still, they appeared to be localised over the Professor's house, instead of gathering over the town.

"Come in, come in, quickly, girl!"

Luna looked around to see Mrs. Honeyflower beckoning urgently to her from her doorway. Glancing back at the strange, hostile cloud formation seething over the tiles of Snape's roof, she obeyed without another thought.

"What's happening?" she gasped as the old woman closed the door behind her.

"I don't know, girl. Professor Snape, where is he?" Mrs Honeyflower was peeping at the street from behind her curtain, taking care to stay hidden.

"On Hogwarts business. He said he wouldn't be late," Luna replied.

"Best get a message through," Mrs. Honeyflower hastened to the fireplace and knelt before the flames that flickered in the hearth. Luna waited while she fire called the school and had a conversation with someone Luna could neither see nor hear which lasted only minutes.

"He's on his way back. You wait with me, dear," the witch said, rising to her feet and returning to her vigil by the window.

When a dark flurry of soot erupted from the fireplace, Luna started but realised as the black tendrils took shape that her guardian had returned.

Snape stepped from the hearth, looking as furious as the swarming storm clouds had.

His eyes found Luna at once and he was moving across the floor towards her, feet hardly touching the ground as Mrs. Honeyflower turned from the window.

"Are you alright?" his eyes were feverish, his face pale.

Luna nodded up at him.

"Yes. What's going on, Severus?"

He gripped her shoulders and bent down so his eyes were levels with hers, his brows drawn together in a fierce scowl.

"They didn't hurt you?"

The tension in him frightened her and she shook her head, words freezing in her throat at the flare in his eyes. He looked haunted, tortured.

"She was here, Professor. She was with me. I saw her outside just before they struck," Mrs Honeyflower was explaining but Snape never lifted his eyes off Luna.

He looked her over as though trying to believe she was real. He drew in one deep breath, followed by another and then he pulled her against him, holding her in a hug so tight, it almost hurt.

"Luna. You are safe. You are safe now."

She had never heard him sound like this before, his voice was hoarse and shaking slightly. She was not sure if his words were to reassure her or if he was trying to persuade himself but Luna leaned into his embrace, glad that he was here. Whatever danger had circled, it could not touch her now.

At last, he held her away from him, his eyes still fixed on her as though afraid to look away in case she disappeared.

"Did you see who?" his question was not directed at Luna, though he did not look away.

"No. Gone seconds before you got there, though," Mrs. Honeyflower replied.

He dropped his head and took yet more deep breaths, clearly trying to steady himself. It was one of the very few times that his poise had ever slipped in the presence of another.

When he straightened, it was back and he set his gaze on his neighbour, the frantic blaze was replaced by the hooded, reserve she was used to seeing on his face.

"Thank you, Honora. I am indebted to you," he said, polite and informal, his tone clipped.

She nodded her acknowledgement and he turned to look down into the confused eyes of his young ward.

"Come now. Come with me," he said, stepping towards the door.

Luna followed as he led the way back to his house and the sight that met her eyes made her catch her breath.

The front door was blasted as though struck by a rocket, so that only splinters of it hung from the twisted hinges.

Inside, the destruction continued, furniture was smashed, glass was shattered, shards like diamonds on the scarred floorboards and loose sheaves of paper floated on a draught she could not see, smoke drifting sourly from the blackened fireplace.

"Oh, Severus. Oh no!" she whispered, sadly.

"It look worse than it is, Luna. I performed a scanning spell and nothing is missing. No permanent harm done," he said.

However, he knew that it took dark magic to penetrate the wards surrounding his home, to wreak this kind of vicious damage.

"I know why they came, what they were looking for," she said softly.

He snapped around, his eyebrows rising. There was no doubt in his mind that this incident was connected with the disappearance of Lovegood, what he did not know was what had happened to draw attention to himself, to his home. And he wondered at the brazenness of targeting his house. It was a long time since his days as a Death Eater, just the same, a tiger is never tame, a cobra never forgiving.

Luna reached into her pocket, withdrew a folded piece of paper and held it out to him. Snape took it, unfolded it with his long fingers, a frown furrowing his brow as he read the print.

When he looked up again, there was a glint in his eye, the first smoulder of a conflagration of temper.

"Where did you get this?" his tone was deceptively quiet but Luna wasn't fooled. She could read his expressions well enough by now.

"I found it, the morning after Dad went away. He had hidden it in a Quibbler," Luna answered.

"You have had this from the start of this and said nothing?" an eyebrow curved sharply.

Luna nodded.

"I didn't know what to do. I was going to give it to you this morning," she said.

"You have had this in your keeping and you were in fact carrying it with you when our unwelcome guest paid a call?" Snape's eyes narrowed.

His mind flooded with a realisation of the danger that all but touched her. It had gotten so close and still he could not even guess at who was responsible. He swallowed and felt darts of pain at his temples.

When his eyes alighted on her, she looked lost and impossibly fragile in the mist of the chaos around her.

"Come here."

She obeyed, treading across a floor strewn with the remnants of his living room. When she reached him he opened his arms and drew her against him once more. He cradled the back of her head with one cupped hand, her cheek against the soft fabric of his waistcoat.

This time, his hug was tender and full of a genuine affection.

"Luna, even thinking about what might have happened to you is frightening the very life out of me," he whispered, his voice raw.

"You should not have kept this from me. I am trying to help you, can you not see that?"

Luna hugged his waist and felt a wretched guilt scald her very bones.

"I know, it Severus. I am sorry. I really didn't know what to do. I wasn't sure what the page was about or if it had anything to do with dad just vanishing like that. I only knew he didn't want anyone to see it and I couldn't bring myself to let him down."

Snape held her seconds longer, then, taking hold of her shoulders, he lifted her arm's length from him.

He bent his head so his coal black eyes, stern and serious were fixed on hers.

"The very first morning you came, I asked if there was anything further you knew about what your father was doing. Luna, if you lie to me again, you will be punished and you won't care for it," he said.

Luna looked into his eyes, the deep, unrelenting black and believed him.

"Any further deception and I will spank you. Do I make myself clear?"

She nodded but looked up into his face, apprehensive and remorseful.

"But not now?"

"Don't tempt me, child," he sighed.

Then he shook his head.

"But not now. I think we have both had enough to deal with today," he straightened, let her go and surveyed the wreckage in the room.

"This item your father was working on. Who else knows about it?" he asked.

"I don't know. I didn't think anyone did. I certainly didn't. And there was only me and him," she replied.

Snape had drawn his wand and had muttered an incantation. Already, things were righting themselves around them, the stuffing of armchairs flying back into upholstery, broken glass reforming into glistening panes.

"Oh and his friend visited sometimes," Luna added, almost an after thought.

Snape paused in the act of pointing his wand at the shreds of his front door.

He turned and she had his full attention now.

"Friend?"

"From Hogwarts too, as it happens, She came to our house once or twice. Sybil is her name. She's very nice. Do you know her?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

 **DISCLAIMER - None of these delightful characters are mine, all belong to JK Rowling.**

"I assure you, Severus, she has no knowledge of it," Professor Dumbledore steepled his fingers under his chin, regarded his grim colleague earnestly.

"And I assure you, Headmaster, that she must," Snape returned acerbically.

"Somebody talked to Lovegood about that prophesy. And since he conveniently vanished completely and totally before publishing it, it is a safe assumption that she told someone else of it. Someone who wants it badly enough to hunt an eleven years old child to get it."

Snape glared determinedly at the older wizard, his fingers curled in his palms, a pulse in his temple fluttering.

"Sybil Trelawney is an accidental seer. She does not remember the fugue states she experiences when she has a real vision. Whatever she told Xenophilius, she did not do so consciously," Dumbledore insisted.

"Then the question is, who else has she been talking to, consciously or otherwise?" Snape bit off the words.

Dumbledore nodded in agreement.

"So it seems. I will talk with Sybil, Severus. I feel that she may be more forthcoming that way."

Snape's eyes flashed. A way that did not involve a generous dose of veritas serum, in other words.

"Despite your confidence that my past might shield her, the girl is not safe, not while we fumble around with no clue as to who it is that hunts her," he said.

"I wondered when the old danger would rear its head. I feel it has begun," the Headmaster said, sombre and sad.

"There is no doubt," Snape's words were stark, his eyes leaden as he spoke them.

"And one so young before such a threat. How is Miss Lovegood coping, Severus?"

"Miss Lovegood is young but by no means a sapling destined to break before the first hard wind, Headmaster," Snape replied truthfully and with a touch of pride in his tone that he hadn't exactly intended.

"A remarkable girl. But it would be easy to be deceived by the air of self containment. She is a child, Severus and this is an extraordinarily difficult time for her," Dumbledore's azure eyes were pensive.

"She is a damnable nuisance, that is what she is," Snape grimaced.

"She has turned my home into a veritable museum of madcap, worthy of any discount joke shop. She holds conversations with stray animals as if talking to an old friend and preserve us all if she gets the ear of a house elf. Since this latest incident, she has been giving me the gimlet eye for having the temerity to tell her off," Snape's lips tightened.

He caught the unspoken question in his superior's eyes.

"I haven't so much as raised my voice to her!" he said shooting a withering look at the other man.

"Severus, your wrath is often a force that takes some reckoning," Dumbledore rose a silver brow over the glinting half moon spectacles.

"Believe me, if she had experienced my wrath, she would be nursing more than a little indignation!"

Dumbledore's eyes glinted at him.

"It is difficult, is it not, to resist mellowing somewhat in the company of one so good hearted?."

The younger man rose and turned towards the door, sparing Dumbledore a look that would have blistered metal.

"Good afternoon, Headmaster." An eddy of the deepest sable and he was gone.

A sharp pop announced his arrival at Spinner's End. The sound of his apparating drew Luna into the hallway, where she greeted him with a perplexed look.

"What is it?" he asked, suddenly keenly alert.

"There is someone here to see you. A ministry official. He's been waiting awhile," she said.

The news cast a hostile frown on his features. He made to open the living door but she gripped his sleeve.

"He's asked some questions about Dad but Severus, he's been asking a lot about the break in here," she said softly, a confused little frown of her own playing on her face.

"Strange that as he's quite vague about how he knows about it," she added in that faraway little way.

He lifted an eyebrow, impressed at her observation.

"Let's see about that, shall we?" this time, he opened the door and moved into the room ahead of the girl, a fleeting look of surprise in his eyes when Barty Crouch Snr rose from a chair,.

A melancholy and severe looking man, he was clutching his hat in front of him, dressed, impeccably as always in a pinstriped suit, remarkably conservative even by muggle standards.

"Professor Snape," he inclined his head in a stiff little bow.

"Mr. Crouch. To what do we owe the honour?" Snape did not take the hand that the suited man held towards him.

"The Ministry is most concerned at Xenophilius' long absence, of course. And to hear of the trouble you had here on top of that. I was in the area and thought a call would be in order," Mr. Crouch lifted a hand and with his thumb and forefinger, smoothed the thin moustache on his upper lip, a habitual gesture.

"Dear, dear, have we forgotten that our days as head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement are behind us?" Snape intoned lazily and Luna saw the already chill gaze of the official grow colder yet.

"Or has a bit of amateur burglary become a global issue warranting the attention of the Department of International Magical Co-operation?" the Professor sounded mildly surprised. Crouch's thin face seemed to sink upon itself.

"Professor, the Ministry takes any act of criminality seriously," Crouch said punctiliously.

"Your reputation alone is enough to persuade me. No danger of Azkaban going empty while you had the say in it."

It was Snape's turn to set a glacial look upon his guest. Something silent and yet furious, hate filled passed between them. Luna watched as the visitor took a step towards the door, splotches of colour on his prominent cheek bones. Before he crossed the threshold, he stopped turned back to the Professor, who had not moved at all.

"You say this was an amateur attempt? Nothing valuable taken?"

"Only my pride, Barty," Snape's lip curled.

The discussion was clearly at an end and Mr. Crouch moved to the door and replaced his hat. Then he looked down at Luna who had been half shielded behind Snape's back.

"Do not hesitate to contact the Ministry at any time, my dear. The absence of your father must take it's toll on you. It is good to have a refuge you can trust," Crouch said.

"Oh yes. But I have all of that here. But thank you," Luna replied, polite as ever but her eyes looked to her guardian, gratitude bright in her face.

"If only Mr. Lovegood had acquainted himself with the responsibilities of fatherhood, we might not be in this unfortunate situation," Crouch shook his head.

"Be careful, Crouch," Snape spoke softly but there was steel beneath the velvet of his tone.

With a curt little bow in her direction, the man was gone. Alone with Snape, Luna sank into the chair Crouch vacated.

"He thinks dad abandoned me," she sounded sad, unusually disillusioned. Snape did not say anything, he did not need to, it wasn't a question.

"Sometimes I think that it would be better if he had. At least I'd know he was out there somewhere. But I don't think he's coming back, Severus."

Her face was turned so that she was looking at the empty grate. He saw her blink, once, twice, again and realised that she was driving back tears. He had never seen her cry, not ever and this struck him now as odd for a child who had experienced such upheaval in such a short space of time.

"Mr. Crouch is a bitter man. Not someone whose first thought would be of reuniting families. He came here for something but it was not to show concern for your father," Severus wished he could tell her that her fears were misplaced, that Crouch's suspicions were likely so, that Xenophilius had simply taken off.

"Whatever has happened, we will find the truth. That is all I have to offer you," he said instead.

She looked up at him, no trace of the tears she had banished.

"Are you still angry with me, Severus?"

"And this would trouble you, young lady?"

"It was wrong, not telling you about the page. But it would trouble me a lot to think I have lost your friendship because of it," her gaze was level.

His eyes glinted. Students in his house had quaked at the very idea of falling foul of his temper for as long as he had been teaching. But no-one had ever fretted for the loss of his friendship. This foundling child surprised him and none before ever could.

"Perhaps a little. I am not a tolerant man, as I believe we have established. But I am not going to turn my back on you over one mistake," he sighed.

"My apology is all I have to offer you," she quoted his own words back to him.

"Then I accept, Luna. We will move on,"

"Yes," she looked resolute.

Merlin's beard, she sounded as though it was she letting him off the hook. His lips lifted in a tight smile.

"So we are friends are we?" he stared at her down the length of his hooked nose.

A small frown played on her face.

"I am not entirely sure. I haven't had many friendships to compare against."

Her honesty was stark and humbling and Snape could not think how to rightly process it.

"Unless you count Hagrid. And the house elves I met at Hogwarts, of course," Luna continued unaware.

Something tumbled in Snape's mind. Barty Crouch had not called here out of concern, he had his own motive and there just might be a way of discovering it.

"Miss Lovegood, I think that it is time we did some socialising of our own. Mr. Crouch was good enough to pay us a visit, the least we can do is return the call," he said.

She looked disconcerted.

"I didn't think you liked him very much. I know I didn't."

A mirthless glint sparked in the shadowy depths of his eyes.

"If I confined myself to people I actually like, I would be a hermit!"

"Leave it to me, I need to think a little about this and then, Luna, you and I shall do the polite thing and pay our new friends a call," he nodded decisively.

"You are a very difficult person to make out," Luna said, sounding not at all disturbed by the fact.

He snorted a laugh and shot her a look that was close to gleeful as she had seen him get.

"My dear, they say I am an open book!" he said, strolling to the stairs. Already, his mind was whirring. The time had come, it seemed give his social diary a good airing but before tripping up the Crouch's front path, he had an old friend to see.

The following morning, he was preparing to leave Spinner's End just after breakfast, when a whoosh announced the arrival of the post. He didn't delay, he was not expecting anything of import, a few orders for his potions store ahead of the new term, at most. He had somewhere he needed to be.

Then, Luna appeared at the door, her face white, her expression clouded. His brows drew together.

"What is it now?" he clipped.

Her hand trembled a bit as she extended a rectangle envelope to him. Snape felt the first stirring of unease. The child looked ill.

He took the envelope, looked down, saw her name written in a distinct flowing cursive he recognised at once.

"This is your letter, Luna. From Hogwarts," he spoke as though to a muggle. Shouldn't she have been expecting it?

"Yes. Of course. I knew that," she took the envelope back, cradled it against her front but made no move to open it.

Severus shook his head. There was no understanding this one.

"I have to go. I will not be late. Have a read of that, make a list of what you need, we will discuss it when I come home."

A pop and he was gone. So, Luna stood in the empty hallway, clutching the unopened letter and feeling as though the earth was spinning far faster than she could stand.

The feeling had not abated by the fall of evening when the Professor returned. They shared supper but it was a silent meal, her guardian was preoccupied in his own thoughts. Luna's letter sat on the mantlepiece, after a quick perusal earlier, she had placed it there, where it sat like a ticking bomb ever since. She focused now instead on the food on her plate and tried to force all thoughts of it from her head.

For his part, Snape was unsure whether the day had yielded satisfactory detail or not. Malfoy Manor was as grandiose as he remembered, and as devoid of personal warmth. He was received there by patriarch of the Malfoy family, his welcome as brittle as crystal in the chandaliers that lit the massive drawing room where he was shown after his arrival.

"Severus. How good of you to call on us. Of course, you must have lot of spare time, now with all the holidays from teaching," Lucius had regarded him carefully, playing the game, waiting.

"Then again, from what I hear, Dumbledore has you putting in some overtime this summer. I hope he is paying you well for the out of hours child care," man's glacial blue eyes were alight but not with humour.

"What would you suggest as an alternative? A nice rest in Azkaban? We each of us are doing what we must to get on with things, since the Dark Lord's untimely fall, Lucius. You do not seem to be suffering too badly," Severus rose one sleek eyebrow, indicated with a quick flick of his eyes the elegant surroundings.

The other man shrugged, his platinum hair framing the aristocratic set of his face.

"As you say, Severus. We do what we must."

"I am not going to going to waste your time, Lucius. Barty Crouch. Why would he turn up at my home?"

Malfoy's surprise was instant and pure. His lips twisted as though he had tasted something bitter.

"Be careful, Severus. If he is visiting you personally, I assume that his lust to send high profile wizards to Azkaban has not been sated. He may not have his position but the taste for it seem to have stuck with him," Malfoy's face hardened.

"His taste for it was all he ever had. The man condemned his own son," Severus inclined his head, fixing a thoughtful look on his face.

"His wife has never forgiven him, they say. Driven half mad by the grief. She hasn't left the house in years. Her health is gone, I hear. So, he rattles around in their house, playing at being a Ministry official each day, hating the world even more than he ever did," Malfoy gazed out the window, his voice untouched by emotion of any kind.

"And junior? As I remember, the boy was nothing short of - maniacal in his devotion to the Dark Lord," Severus went on.

His blond companion sneered.

"Maniacal? The attention starved antics of a spoiled brat hardly apsire to the idea, Severus. Poor litle rich boy with Daddy issues looking for a way to rebel, that was Barty Junior. And daddy showed him what he thought of that. Packed him off to Azkaban before you could say black magic," still, Lucius Malfoy spoke as though discussing the vagaries of the weather.

Snape digested the information and deftly turned the conversation to Malfoy's own son. The boy was due to start Hogwarts in a matter of days, his letter had also arrived that morning.

For the remainder of his visit, Severus had listened sympathetically as Lucius outlined his woes at the low standards of Albus Dumbledore and how if it wasn't for the assurance of having a few solid influences such as Snape's own, he could not contemplate sending his son to Hogwarts.

In reflection, he supposed the visit had gleaned him some of what he wanted to know. Barty Crouch still bore a vendetta against Voldemort's old guard and his son still languished in Azkaban. How that explained Crouch's call to his home, he did not know. Neither could he work out or how it related to the break in or to Sybil Trelawney and the Potter Prophesy, or to Lovegood's disappearance but though the threads stayed maddening disparate, he knew they were connected. Finding out how, well, that was the next thing.

His circling thoughts made him feel tired, drained his appetite and he glanced up, realising at last that the small girl on the other side of the table was still hunched over her plate and she had not spoken a word throughout the meal.

He said nothing, he watched her eat, though if asked to guess, he would have said she was tasting none of the food.

"Whatever it is, best tell me, Luna," he said.

She looked over at him, as though surprised to find him there.

"You are tired," she said, that jarring insight of hers appearing from nowhere to contradict the dreamy lull she exuded.

"Never mind that. You look like you found a knut and lost your broomstick. What's wrong?"

In repsonse, she stood up and walked to the fireplace, retrieved her Hogwarts letter and handed it to him.

He glanced at it and fixed his eyes on her. She sat back down, clasped her fingers in her lap and chewed her lip. He waited, he had neither the patience or the disposition to coax the problem from her.

"There's a lot on that list. I didn't ever think about that. I had it in my head that Dad would be back," she began.

"It's not easy, I know that. But term begins in days and you are starting at Hogwarts. I am quite sure your father will be very proud of you," Snape could not think of much by way of comfort. How was he to find the words to make her feel better about meeting one of life's milestones without her parent?

"Yes. It's just that I don't know how to get the money. I know Dad has some at Gringotts. The Quibbler does quite well, you know and he is the editor. But I have no idea how to get it, how to pay for all of it," she flapped her hands and went back to chewing her lip.

Snape's hand came down on the table with a resounding whack, startling the girl and himself, truth be told.

He was on his feet before he recovered and advancing towards the girl, his face set in severe and unrelenting lines.

"How dare you, you little imp!" he glowered at her, his eyes flashing.

She looked up at him, silenced by the outburst.

He reached out, took her shoulders in his hands and shook her. He ignored the fright in her eyes and dragged her to her feet.

"You ungrateful girl! You insult me with talk of money! This, this is what has you moping around here all day? What do you think? I will send you to school in sackcloth and Googlehoffs?"

She blinked, opened her mouth but no words came out. He let her go and presented her with his back.

"I.. I really did not think about it. It's not fair for you….." Too late, Luna realised that she was making things much worse and her words petered out.

"I'll tell you what I shall do, then. Make out a list of all your costs and expenditure and I shall bill your father for it when he turns up. He can settle with me out of the Gringotts account, every last sickle," he spun to face her, his eyes ablaze with naked anger.

Luna was stunned. She stood and stared into his furious features, her mind utterly blank.

And suddenly Luna felt as though her eyes had gone on fire. She blinked to dispel the unpleasant sensation, hardly registering the tears that escaped her lashes to trail down her cheeks.

The sight of her tears acted like ice water on the blaze of Snape's temper. For one thing, she looked so hopeless, standing there, desperately unhappy and for another, her crying was so uncharacteristic, he was brought up completely.

In fact, neither one seemed to know exactly what to make of it. Luna lifted a hand and swiped at the moisture on her face, not altogether sure how it had gotten there.

"What are you crying for?"

It was all he could think to say.

She looked as though her whole world was about to come undone. Real torment played on her face and pain welled up in the tears that swam unshed in her eyes.

"I have offended you. Severus. I am sorry. I hurt you."

He had said something similar to her once. It had been true and he had felt very sorry for it.

He looked at her and saw that she believed herself the guilty one now. And he was completely mortified to recognise that she was crying because of it.

He expelled a long breath slowly and crossed his arms over his chest.

"It's my ego that's been wounded, nothing more," he sighed.

He might have laughed at the idea of this little wraith of a girl hurting him, as though a snowflake could harm the stone upon which it fell. But he did not. Those were real tears on her face, the first he had ever seen her cry and they were for him. The child had come through a veritable storm in her life, held her emotions under a stoic command but came undone at the idea of causing him affront. Was there any way of comprehending what went on inside that female mind?

Still misery poured from her, silent and deep and with every tear, Severus felt a burning desire for the ground to simply open and swallow him whole. This was uncharted and frankly, hostile territory to him. Children often cried before him, the ire of the Potions Master was a dread prospect for students, he staked his reputation upon it. This was different, this was not bringing a disorderly dunderhead of a Gryffindor to heel or instilling a little due respect into a boisterous Huffelpuff. This felt like taking a sledgehammer to a butterfly.

"I didn't mean to offend. I am sorry," she said again.

"Forget it. I have had a long day. Perhaps, I am grouchy and out of sorts. I should not have snapped at you," he gave her a look that he hoped was reassuring. He was contemplating giving her a calming draught just to make her stop with the tears when she sniffled loudly.

Presently, she found a neatly folded handkerchief before her eyes and took it gratefully from his fingers.

"Stop that, now. There's no need for all this. I am a big boy, Luna. I do not bruise as easily as all that," he said gruffly.

He rested a hand on the top of her head, gently ruffling the sunshine strands of her hair beneath his fingers.

She dried her face with his handkerchief, that he carried one was an old time refinement that she liked the idea of and then she pocketed it.

"I was rude to you. I apologise, Severus. The letter, I wasn't prepared for it, that was all," she said at last.

"Change can catch us all out that way, love," he said, looking down into her damp eyes, his face set but in the serious expression he always wore, the anger of before was gone.

"So here is what I propose we do. Tomorrow I will take you to Diagon Alley, we will buy what you need for school. When your Dad turns up, he and I will work out the practicalities. For now, let's just concentrate on what we must," he said.

"A one day at a time, sort of deal," Luna said appreciatively.

He chuckled.

"Just so,"

"Rabbles only live for one day. All that flying about and making people's hair stand on end and it's over in just one day. Did you know that?"

"Welcome back," he said with a smirk.

She didn't catch his meaning. Instead, she looked up at him, her expression clearing as though a spell had been cast on her.

"So I get to spend the day with you tomorrow?" she asked.

"Yes," he nodded down at her, his head reeling to see the glad look on her face. He was starting to feel as though he had been running a long distance and it might be as well to sit down.

He mustered his expression, his eyes free of emotion and his brows meeting in a forbidding glare.

"And that will teach you better than to get my back up again!" he growled.

"I think that was a joke?" she looked up at him carefully but was met with silence.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

 **DISCLAIMER - None of these delightful characters are mine, all belong to JK Rowling.**

Diagon Alley was everything Luna remembered from the only other time that she had been there. She had been about eight years old then and had accompanied her dad who was looking for some printing supplies. It was the most exciting place she had ever seen and so it proved now.

The Professor had apparated after breakfast, taking her with him and so, her feet touched the ground just outside a fabulously noisy shop, crammed with cages, each containing a different animal.

Luna gazed fascinated at glimpses of ravens' wings, the flash of a pink tail as a rat squirmed on its downy bed, the amber scrutiny of a tabby cat. Then, she felt the weight of the Professor's hand on her shoulder.

"Not just yet, Luna. I sense that a stop in there might well be a lengthy one! Time enough for that when we have attended to our other business," he said, the corners of his eyes crinkling at her.

"Oh I don't need a pet, Severus," she said cheerfully and his expression turned stern.

"Is this another cost saving exercise, young lady?"

"Oh no. I promised Galahad that he could come to Hogwarts with me," Luna looked up at him decisively.

"Who?" her guardian's brows beetled.

"My cat. Well, I say my cat but he's not really mine. He just likes to hang out with me," she replied, her eyes wandering around the bustling commercial centre of the wizarding world.

He shook his head and indicated with a sweep of his hand that they should move along. Luna followed his lead, her interest flitting swiftly from one vibrant and busy shop to the next. She watched as sparks erupted through the door of a quaint little shop with a Victorian window, each square pane so dusty it was quite impossible to see inside.

"Our first stop," Severus said, reaching for the door and holding it open for her, an instinctive courtesy.

Luna read the sign of the door, recognised the name straight away. Olivander's, the most famous wand maker in thewizarding world.

Inside, the gloom made it almost as difficult to see the stock as it had been to in from the outside. Dust motes floated on the spears of light that came in from the fanlight above the door and the gaps in the grime on the windows. Luna did make out another person, about her own height, a girl, who was waving a wand with an uncertain circular movement of her hand. The sparks had been cast by her, Luna realised as she watched while this time, a vortex of air fanned from the tip of the wand, causing her hair to be lifted back from her face, as though she faced a strong gust of wind.

An old man, frail looking, impossibly old and slightly hunched stepped forward.

"Oh no, my dear. Not this one then," he took the wand from the girl and went back to a soaring shelf filled with piles of rectangular boxes.

He searched through the towering piles, reaching at last for a box and returning to his customer.

"Give this one a try, then. Seven inches, hazel with dragon's heartstring," he handed her the wand and turned his attention to the newcomers.

"Professor Snape. I thought I might be seeing you," Mr Olivander set eyes of a faded blue on his tall client. Luna wondered if his eyes were sightless, so pale in colour were they but his gaze was keen when he turned it on her.

"Miss Lovegood, is it not? Starting Hogwarts this year, then. I knew your mother, your father, too, of course," Mr. Olivander said.

Luna extended a hand.

"I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Olivander," she said. "My father hopes that one day, you will talk to him about the troubles of wand rot. He has an excellent piece in his last…. In the last … the most recent Quibbler," she said.

The old man regarded her with a perplexed silence. Snape cleared his throat and Olivander snapped back the task at hand, seemingly relieved to have something to do other than discuss a wand rot interview.

"Ah yes. Let's see, let's see," he shuffled away and disappeared into the darkened recesses of his shop, returning a moment later with a long, thin box containing a sleek wand made of a pale, glossy wood.

""Laurel. Ten inches, unicorn tail at its core. Try this, Miss Lovegood. See how you go," Mr. Olivander said.

Luna lifted the wand and felt a sensation like a current of power running up her arm. A tower of boxes collapsed to the floor.

"Ah, not this one, then," Olivander took the wand, slipped it back into the box and vanished once more.

When he returned he paused to watch the progress of the other girl.

"Yes, Miss Parkinson, I think that's the one," he said as the girl flicked the wand again and the empty box lifted into the air smoothly before alighting back on the shelf, graceful and silent.

"Now, my dear. Another. Rosewood, eight and a half inches. Also Unicorn hair," the wand maker held out another slim box to Luna, who lifted the wand, feeling it light in her hand.

This time, a different feeling, the wand sat snugly into the palm of her hand, feeling slightly warm against her skin. Mr. Olivander looked hopeful as Luna flicked her wrist and felt only a vibration, a sense of power contained.

"Ah there we are. A match. Professor, I feel your charge will do well with this one," the wandmaker nodded, pleased.

He turned back to complete the transaction with the Parkinson girl, who gave Luna, with her mismatched ear rings and her hair band made of sea shells a mocking look. This she masked quickly as she caught Professor's Snape's eye, intimidated by the warning flash she saw there.

The wand purchase made, Severus took her across the cobbled street and indicated yet another shop.

"In you go, Luna. Madame Malkin will see to your robes. Tell her to charge them to me and to have them sent to Hogwarts. I have some business of my own to see to and I will also order your books. I will meet you in half an hour, right over there," he pointed to a brightly coloured shop, where children milled about in large numbers. Luna quickly saw why.

"And if you are a good girl, get all your shopping done and are on time, I may even buy you an ice cream," he gave a small bow, almost regal as he made to take his leave.

Looking forward to the promise of a visit to Fortescue's, whose ice creams were the stuff legends were made of, Luna followed his direction to get fitted for her robes, a small smile on her face. This was a good day, she thought and this feeling, well, it was happiness.

Although not a girl to pay heed to the fashion trends of the either the magical or muggle world, Luna none the less enjoyed the purely feminine pleasure of trying new clothes. With Madame Malkin's experienced eye and advice guiding her, she was fitted for her robes, feeling as she wore them that she was a part of new community, a new family, on her way to be a qualified witch.

Then, she took stock of the time and not wanting to be late, she thanked the sales witch and hurried outside to find the Professor.

All about, people milled past her, this was a busy time for the Diagon Alley traders as families flocked to buy goods for students ahead of term resuming. Voices chattered, children laughed, Luna could have simply stayed put to take it all in but for her arrangement to meet Severus at the ice cream shop and so, she made her way in its direction now.

The day was pleasantly sunny and warm, the atmosphere around her was irresistibly joyful and Luna felt better than she had in many days,. It was as if the late summer heat was burning away her troubles, and even if it was for just one day, Luna intended to make the most of it.

She arrived at the ice cream shop, let her eyes roam over the throngs of happy children and smiling parents and realised that her guardian had not yet arrived. Pleased to be the first there, Luna contented herself with watching other people eat their ice cream while she waited, imagining which one she might to choose for herself.

Suddenly, Luna had the sense that she herself was being observed. She looked about, trying to find the eyes she felt upon her and at first, saw only the distracted and anonymous faces of strangers who paid her no heed at all. Then, as she looked, a gap opened between the swarming crowds, a chink between the multitudes of shoppers and through it came a small figure, eyes wide and eager, large ears flapping as it hurried in her direction. It was moving straight towards her and Luna was completely surprised when the little creature stopped before her.

"Ah Miss Lovegood. The trouble Is had to finds you," the house elf gasped, pressing a long fingered hand to her chest. She set her bright, round eyes on Luna and gave a theatrical little bow.

"Me?" Luna bent over so that she was closer to the little elf's height.

"Did the Professor send you?"

Luna had never seen the creature before but she wondered if she was a Hogwarts elf.

"You must look here now, just look here," the aged being said, unfolding the fingers of her other hand, which was fisted around something Luna could not see.

Then, there was shimmer, as gilded dust puffed for a mere heartbeat before Luna's eyes and then it was gone, vanished on the still summer air.

"Oh. Was that gildyduff pollen? What was that?"

Luna blinked, taken aback at the unusual sight. She straightened, her head felt suddenly light.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice sounding like it was coming from a long way off.

Suddenly, an eerie silence was descending, even though Luna could still see the hundreds of people enjoying the shops and the warm day. It was as though the sounds of their voices were being muffled.

Her eyes tingled and her limbs felt heavy. She was quite certain that she would never be able to lift her arms again, move her foot even an inch. Why, even her eyelids were far too weighty to move.

"Luna! Who are you talking to?"

She barely heard the words, they seemed garbled, as if spoken underwater but she knew she recognised the voice that spoke them, even if she could not remember the name of its owner.

She tried to look around at the speaker, found she could not. Then , there was a shadow falling over her, the deepest black and a puzzled set of obsidian eyes were looking at her worriedly.

Luna knew she knew who it was and she wanted to open her mouth and tell him that something had happened, something was wrong but she could not do it.

She looked but where the elf had been, there was only a patch of empty cobbles.

"Severus!"

It took every ounce of her fading strength to utter the words but his hands were already on her shoulders, his eyes roving over, fierce and intense.

Then, he reached forward and swooped her up into his arms, holding her tightly to him as he moved through the shuffling crowds. People parted before him quickly, his steps were urgent and the expression on his face would have turned back an army.

Luna felt the air rush about her as he carried her, knew he was moving fast. Still the awful, languorous stupor persisted, threatening to consume her completely. She longed to give in, to sink under the velvet darkness that drained her muscles and froze her bones.

"Keep your eyes open, fight, Luna, fight it," she could hardly determine the words Severus was saying but the insistencey in his tone just reached her, held the lethargy at bay.

She knew she was inside, now, she did not know what the building was or even how long she had been there. The room was dark and she knew she was lying on a couch, old, possibly antique, it's red upholstery faded and worn to the thread in parts.

The Professor was standing over her, his face grimly set, his eyes burning as though he had a fever. His wand was in his hand and he was speaking to someone she could not see, words she could not hear.

Then, a second figure moved into her line of vision, an old witch, her face wrinkled and her eyes almost sunk into the hollows of their sockets. The crone held something out to Severus, who took it in his fingers and then reached out to press it between Luna's lips.

A tiny stone? She did not know but it was round, smooth, cool in her mouth and then, it was softening and the worst taste she had ever known filled her mouth, pervaded her senses. So strong was it that the inertia dispelled under the force of her need to cough, to clear her throat of the foul taste.

She spluttered, her eyes watering and she wondered if she had been poisoned. Surely, it was acid searing her tongue, her insides, all the way to her stomach. She was gripped with a violent need to expel the substance and she heaved, sitting forward before her mind had caught up with her reflex.

Severus' arm was around her shoulders, supporting her.

"That's it, good girl, get it out," he whispered and she realised that she could hear him properly at last.

For several seconds, she retched, the muscles of her stomach clenching forcefully and unstoppably.

Finally, it eased and the embarrassing display ended, leaving her gasping for air but able to move, free of the invisible chains that had almost choked her.

She leaned against the Professor, humiliated by the sickness that had rocked her. His coat front felt rough against her cheek and he smelled of spice and old powder. It was the nicest scent in the world, as far as Luna was concerned.

"Luna, are you alright?"

He held her a little way from him, leaning forward so he could see her face, strands of dark hair falling forward to almost hide his eyes. He cupped her cheek with one hand, his other still clutching his wand. The gesture was gentle but there was a deadly expression on his face.

"Yes, yes, I am now," she flexed her fingers, wriggled her toes, everything moved as it should.

"What happened?" she asked.

"I was about to ask you the same question," he drawled.

"I don't know. A house elf came up, said something to me and then there was this gold powder," Luna recalled.

He exchanged a look with the old witch.

"Brugmansia, alright," she said with a nod of her head.

"Yes. She was almost fully paralysed when I found her," Severus said, his jaw clenching.

"If you hadn't spotted the signs, she would have gotten much worse. It's not easy to identify and I know of cases where full petrification can happen inside of five minutes. Quick thinking to bring her here. Lucky I had that mule stone," the woman went on.

"I think the young lady can hear very well now. We hardly need to talk as if she is not here," Severus looked down at the mystified girl, a mixture of horror and gratitude swirling in his blood.

"Where are we?" she asked, her eyes roving around the murky room.

"Knockturn Alley. A supply store I often visit for ingredients for my potions. Thankfully, we were not far away," Severus told her.

"You inhaled a very strong herb, Luna. It is deadly and works by calcifying the subject until they can no longer breathe or their heart beat. It in known as Devil's Breath, This house elf, did you recognise it?" his brow was cleaved by a deep frown as he looked at her.

"No. I thought you sent her. She said she had been looking for me."

Luna's face was so pale, she might as well have been a ghost. She still rested against him, glad to feel his arm around her, his nearness was solid and strong and that made Luna feel very safe.

"No chance of finding a house elf here. She'll have vanished, gone back to whoever sent her," the witch said from behind him, as though she had read his thoughts. Severus's hands itched to tear the street apart searching for the creature. But the witch was right, the elf would be long gone by now and his anger spiked several notches as frustration boiled.

"I am very sorry, Severus," Luna looked up at him, eyes wide and sorrowful.

"What are you apologising for, silly child? You have done nothing wrong," he chided softly.

"I made a mess," she made face at the thoughts of the sickness that had almost rent her in two moments before.

"Forget about it. That I can fix in a blink of an eye," as if to underline his point, he waved his wand and the remnants of the illness that had gripped her vanished.

"If anything had happened to you, I could never have undone it. If I hadn't left you, if I had gotten there a little sooner," he clutched her to him a little harder, dropping his head to shield what was in his eyes.

"You didn't do anything wrong, either, Severus. You saved my life. You're much more than my guardian, you know. You are a hero," Luna gazed at him, her face open and honest and it hurt him physically to hear the words.

His lips curled, the loathing he felt at himself, his own ineptitude, his helplessness roared within him like a hungry beast.

"That is shock talking. I am no one's hero, Luna. But I am not going to argue with you while you are looking no stronger than a dandelion seed I could blow away with my breath," he shook his head at her.

"Come, I am taking you home. Are you able to stand now?"

She planted her feet on the ground and with his arm supporting her, she rose.

"I'm ready to go, now," she met his eyes.

He saw her grit her teeth at the effort to stand and remain upright, felt her lean a little more heavily against him than was normal. But her eyes were clear and her expression determined.

"I am fine, now Severus," she said firmly.

Yes, he had always thought it, there was more to this one than met the eye.

She took hold of his arm and a dizzying second later, they were standing in his hallway at Spinner's End.

He led her to the living room and flicked his wand at the fireplace, where a flickering blaze lit at once.

"Right, sit there and get warm," he said, making it sound more like an order he rapped out. He had no experience of nurturing anyone but a vague memory of his own mother tending to him when he had been ill as a child surfaced in the recesses of his mind.

She obeyed and it felt nice to sit, to be in familiar surroundings, to have him close. With him here, no threat seemed frightening.

"If you are up to it, tomorrow, we pay a visit to Crouch. There are too many loose ends, here Luna. I cannot see where the danger is coming from. Time to get some answers, I think," he said.

"I will be ready," she nodded.

"The Crouch family have a house elf working for them. I want you to make sure to make its acquaintance. If it is the same one that attacked you, tell me at once. Am I clear?" he paced before the fire, scowling rather fiercely.

"Yes," she acquiesced again.

He paused in his prowling, looked down at her.

"You were very brave today, Luna. There are not many who could have battled the effects of Devil's Breath as you did," he said.

"I am only sorry that I got ill and shortened our lovely day," she said, dropping her eyes.

"Ill? Lovely day? You could have died! And stupidly, I left you, as if restocking my store cupboard was more important than your safety!" he thundered.

"None of this is your fault, Severus. I don't know why these things are happening to me. What I do know for certain is that you are on my side. And that's how I know I'll be ok," she said.

He stared at her, part of him wanted to take hold of her and shake her, another part wanted to fall on his knees and plead her forgiveness.

She rose to her feet, steadily, though her skin was still pale, almost translucent.

"I will not let you down, again, child. You have my oath on that," he said.

He turned away, unable to face the trust in her eyes, the lack of blame on her face when he had so much of it for himself.

He was almost out of the door when her voice came to him, the sound of his name stopping his exit.

"Severus? For the most part, it was a lovely day. The best I've had in a long time. You bought me my first wand. And lovely robes and I never even said thank you. But I want you to know I'll never forget it," she said.

She walked to where he stood, framed in the doorway and reached up to drop a feather light kiss on his cheek.

He let his eyes fall down on her, his face drawn into pained lines.

"You are a tiny idiot! I have long suspected it!" he growled but she continued serenely towards the stairs, leaving him standing in his own hallway and a world away from all he thought he knew.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

 **DISCLAIMER - None of these delightful characters are mine, all belong to JK Rowling.**

 ******* AUTHOR** **'** **S NOTE ***** It was as I was writing this chapter that I learned, with great sadness of the death of Alan Rickman. It changed the experience of writing Professor Snape for me. As mentioned very eloquently by another Fanfiction author, RainCity Writer, it is his voice I hear when Severus speaks in my stories. I would like to take a moment here to express my regret at the news of his passing and also to acknowledge his enormous skill in breathing life into such a complex and unforgettable character.**

The following morning was just as bright with flowering of high summer as the previous one had been, just as free of dark threats and evil intent. Severus Snape sat at his breakfast table, dressed in a suit of midnight blue, the collar and cuffs of his shirt snowy white in contrast. At his hand, a cup of tea steamed, and beside it, a plate held the crumbs of the toast he'd eaten for breakfast.

True to her word, the girl was ready as soon as him, she had finished her meal and was flicking through an old copy of the Quibbler, which was upside down in her hands. She was reading intently just the same.

Still, he lingered, thoughts tumbling in his mind, stewing in the fury he felt every time he thought of how close he had come to losing his charge the day before.

Today, he would find some of the answers that had eluded him like drifts of smoke, he was bound to it. Whatever had drawn Barty Crouch to his home, he would explain it. If he had anything to do with the attack on the child, then Merlin help him, for he would beg for the mercy he himself had never shown another living being.

"You won't hurt her, will you?"

The question interrupted the violent turn of his thoughts but surprised him by being very close to the direction they were taking.

"Who?" he frowned at the girl who was watching him with interest over the top of her magazine. Or the bottom of it, depending on how you viewed it.

"The elf. If we find her at the Crouch house? She would not have harmed me if her master or mistress had not directed her to do what she did. You can't hold her responsible," Luna said.

His expression was level, his gaze hooded but within, rage seared him.

"I can't? What would suggest instead? Perhaps I should congratulate her on her excellent service? Invite her to come have a rummage through my potions store so she can get hold of something even more potent for the next time?" he quirked a brow.

Luna gave him a look that reminded him of a muggle matron skewering a disruptive patient with her disapproval.

"I think that you must be calm or we won't learn much from this visit," she said in serene tones.

"You are giving me instruction on how to proceed today?"

If Hogwarts crumbled before his very eyes, he would not have been more flabbergasted.

"Well, it's only my advice. I watched my father do some very tricky interviews, you know. But that's not it. I just hate the idea that the elf will pay for something that she could not help. I don't want to help get her hurt," she said.

"Do you want to accompany me today?" it was his turn to pin her with a sombre look of his eyes.

"Yes,"

"Then we do this my way. Don't get any half baked ideas into that head of yours of protecting a house elf. If the one that attacked you belongs to Crouch I want to know about it, immediately. You can let me worry about how to deal with the facts once we have procured them," he warned.

"Very well," her agreement was sincere but the unease lingered in the jade eyes. So much strength in her, he thought and yet so much tenderness. He could almost envy her that.

"But I am not interested in harming the elf," he sighed, not able to ignore the plea on her face.

"What I want to know is who sent her," he said and rose to his full height. Luna mirrored the gesture.

"So stop looking at me as if I unleashed a cushion load of yezzirs at you and let's go," he swept to the hallway.

They alighted on an avenue, dimly lit despite the sunshine, as overhead, a canopy of leaves formed a shady overhang as the branches of old trees which lined the roadway met. It was quiet and there was no one around to see the sudden apparition of the darkly clad man and the little blonde girl.

Snape ran a hand, palm downwards along the front of his jacket, smoothing invisible wrinkles. His eyes took in the vacant street, the silent houses that lay far from the road.

His wand was tucked in his sleeve, his fingers felt the tip of it and he nodded once at Luna before moving towards a gateway nearest them.

The gates were open but the premises did not look inviting just the same. The grass looked scorched, turning a custard colour in patches, its growth thin and unkempt. The path to the house was clear of debris but no flowers lined the way, no ornaments of any kind were to be seen. The house, red bricked, two storeyed, had soaring chimneys but the windows were dark, like empty eyes staring into nothing.

If Luna had been asked to guess what the building was used for she would have said a muggle orphanage or perhaps a funeral home. It had an air of utility but lacked any personal touch that would have spoke of it being a home.

"Crouch is here. He is not working at the Ministry these past few weeks, his wife is too ill to be left alone. He won't be expecting us. Remember, make an excuse to leave the room and see if you can't catch sight of that elf," Snape said softly.

Luna followed his swift progress up the drive to the front porch of the house, waited with him as he drew on the bell pull, saw the disdain flare in his eyes, when Barty Crouch himself heaved it open.

The man stood in a scant vee of the door opening, his own expression registering his shock to see his visitors. For all that it was plain he was not expecting company, Crouch's hair was carefully combed, his moustache razor sharp across his lip, his shirt pristine, pressed to a crisp finish. His eyes were as cold as Luna remembered.

"I am sorry, Professor Snape, this is not a good time," he said, sounding for all the world like he was rejecting a door to door salesman.

The Professor stepped forward confidently, with the air of one given a profuse welcome. He put a hand flat against the door and pressed forward. Crouch resisted but minimally. Snape's face was a hardened mask. There would be no turning him back.

Yet, Crouch still clutched the door as though holding onto the hope of closing it against them. He did not object further to their entry, neither did he invite them into the main part of the house.

"Time is what I want from you, Crouch, good or otherwise. You enjoyed my hospitality, now I think it is my turn," Snape said smoothly.

"This is where you invite us in," he continued in the same mocking drawl.

He lifted a hand and indicated Luna at his side.

"But we are prepared to bypass the niceties in favour of a little truth. Starting with the whereabouts of Xenophilius Lovegood," Snape voice did not rise but his eyes had fastened on the other man, holding him as though he had his hand at his throat.

"Have you gone insane? I know nothing of the man," Crouch's lips were a little too white, too thin.

"Well, we can try again. Why did you arrange to have this child attacked in Diagon Alley yesterday? What is it that you think she knows?" Snape pressed.

As she watched and though Luna knew not how, the air around the Professor seemed to dim, as though the darkness of his form was seeping into the atmosphere.

The ministry man seemed to feel it too for he licked his lips, a clearly nervous gesture and when he spoke, his voice was not exactly even.

"You have gone mad! Attack her? That is a dangerous accusation, Snape! A man like you can hardly afford to go around throwing out remarks like that, no matter how high your standing at Hogwarts. Now," the last word came out like an insult.

"Ah Barty. You may not know quite as much about a man like me as you seem to think. For one thing, I see no value in making accusations. Too much talking for my taste. A man like me likes get his hands dirty once in a while. If you know what I mean."

The Professor sounded to Luna like he was reciting poetry, his tone eloquent, if you could ignore the venom leeching from every word.

"In fact, it might surprise you to think that a man like me is not so different from you. You always did like to act on your gut feelings, didn't you, Barty? I'm sure you too have found an appetite for retribution is hard to sate in these civilised days?"

"Now, you will know as well just how … unsatisfactory it is when one cannot get the answers one wants. So far, you haven't exactly given me much to make me warm up to you. But I have one more question for you. The convict or reprieve type of question that you might recognise," Snape was almost whispering, a hissing sound that still managed to grate like nails against a board.

"Severus. I think you are being unfair," Luna's voice was mildly scolding, completely at odds with the menace Snape had conjured.

He broke his hold on Crouch's gaze, looked down at her, a curious expression on his face.

"Mr Crouch hasn't even had a chance to invite us in. I know he was not the one who attacked me and if he knows who did, he would tell you, wouldn't you, Mr. Crouch?" Luna looked into the pasty face of Barty Crouch, seeing the fear in his eyes but also the dislike that still lived there.

Distracted by the gentle but jarring vote of confidence in him, Crouch moved back from the door.

"I tell you, I know nothing of it. I have no reason to hurt you, young lady. I would never wish it," Crouch insisted, addressing Luna directly.

"My guardian is very worried about it. I am sorry if we caused you disturbance," Luna said lightly.

"If you wouldn't mind, I would like to use your bathroom?" Luna said and nonplussed by the contrast of her polite, if bemused presence compared to the wrathful figure of the Professor, Crouch was nodding before he had thought about it.

"Then you will leave. My wife is ill, this unpleasantness would upset her too much if she hears. She must have rest," Crouch straightened, aiming to take back control but not quite succeeding. Snape stood too close to him, his face filled with spite.

"Upstairs. First door to the left. Please be quiet and do not delay. I don't want you to disturb Mrs. Crouch," he waved a hand at the stairs that rose behind him.

Luna felt that if the Professor had not been standing at his elbow, rancour just about rolling off him, Crouch may not have been as accommodating.

She bounded up the stairs just the same, leaving the two men eying each other with ill disguised resentment.

Once on the landing and out of sight of Barty Crouch, she darted quickly along the corridor, finding once again that strange lack of homeliness. There were no family portraits, no vases of flowers, no books, nothing to indicate who lived there or what their tastes might be.

The corridor was lined with doors, heavy, mahogany doors and bypassing the bathroom, Luna put her hand on the door opposite, thinking that the little trespass might draw the house elf to chivvy her out of the room.

The door opened easily beneath her hand but no four foot tall creature manifested to block her way.

Curious, Luna peeked her head around the threshold, seeing at once that it was a bedroom. She was about to withdraw, fearing that Mrs. Crouch was in bed and not wanting to disturb the sick old woman but she saw the bed was empty.

Aged blankets lay smoothly over the mattress, the pillows were full. The curtains were closed but she saw that there was a winged chair close to the window.

In the half light that soaked through the heavy fabric of the curtains, she could see that the shadow seemed thicker in the chair, more solid, though it was facing mostly away from the door. Was there someone sitting in it, a lady dozing in the murk? She squinted. Yes, it was a human hand resting on the arm. She could not see the profile of the person the hand belonged to, the light was too bad but Luna knew with absolute certainty that they were not dozing.

There was no face to study, no eyes to look into but Luna felt the weight of a gaze upon her. It was more than that, it was as though she was being feasted upon. Her voice caught in her throat, Her skin prickled.

"I am sorry to have disturbed you," she spoke in a scramble, the words freed suddenly, the way a fizzy drink spills from a bottle when the cork pops.

"Think nothing of it. We seldom see anyone here these days. Come in, then girl. I think I would like a little company. Perhaps it would do me good."

It could have been that the voice seemed disembodied, the gloom cloaking the speaker or perhaps it was an off key in the tone but Luna felt revulsion flood her.

It propelled her feet into movement, she almost tripped over her own shoes as she backed away from the door. She would never have been able to explain it but she could not turn her back to that strange, incorporeal voice. This was no house elf. Whoever sat in that chair was woven of a blackness that did not come from the lack of light in the room. Luna knew that if she had taken one more step into that bedroom, she would never have come back out again.

The knowledge had her practically skidding down the narrow passageway once she had cleared the doorway. She dared a look backwards as she neared the top of the stairs but the corridor was empty, just a carpeted, slightly dusty walkway through the upper floor of this sad house.

Luna took the stairs two at a time and Severus looked up at the sound of her descent. Concern flashed quickly across his already austere features and he lifted a foot to take a step towards her.

But before he had set it back down, she was at his side.

She said nothing but she looked up into his eyes, a silent message that warned him not to react. She was already feeling a little silly at the force of the dread she had felt. Here, with Severus towering over her in his familiar way and Barty Crouch looking uncomfortable but completely normal, Luna wondered what it was she had found so awful.

The horror that had assailed her was receding now that she was out of that doorway, out of sight of the spectre that sat within.

The Professor gave her an appraising look, curious as to her haste. He did not say anything to her though, taking his cue from her. Instead, he fixed his eyes back on the befuddled host.

"I said I had a last question, Crouch. Your answer will mean a lot, either way," he glared at the man.

"And do not think to lie to me. I will know and as you might have guessed, a man like me could get very nasty if I were displeased," Snape's tongue glided over the warning. Crouch paled further.

He leaned forward, the older man almost staggered as he tried to pull back.

"Why did you come to my home?" Severus made each word sound like a sentence in itself.

His eyes locked to the unhappy man's watery gaze. His stance was unyielding and Severus' fingers twitched just at the hilt of the wand tucked into his sleeve.

"I had to know if anything valuable had been taken. What you had stolen from you."

Crouch's thin, anaemic lips closed like a vault after the words. There would be nothing else. For endless seconds, Snape maintained his stare, a predator taking its prey hostage. Then, he appeared to lose interest in his quarry. His eyes flickered to the rug at his feet, his shoulders slumped, he was no more than a man with a small girl, an unwelcome guest about to take his leave.

"Luna."

He placed his hand on the child's shoulder, his meaning clear. It was time to leave.

Barty Crouch reached forward and widened the opening of the door, making little effort to mask his relief at their leave taking.

Snape did not look at him again but swept out with Luna in tow, his quick steps taking them to the gate of the property and it was then he spoke.

"The elf?"

Luna met his eyes and shook her head.

"Nowhere in sight."

"A pity. If you could have identified it as belonging to Crouch, he would have to produce it and it would link him to yesterday's incident without question," he said, half in thought.

"The visit didn't give you much of a lead, then," Luna said.

"On the contrary, Luna. Crouch told me much more than he intended. Come, there is someone else I need to see. You may accompany me or I can take you home," his eyes were keen, the spark ignited by the first glimmer of his quarry.

"Severus, something happened in there. Please take me home," Luna's eyes were shadowed.

There was something he had seldom seen flitting across her face, repugnance. A thousand questions swarmed like irate hornets in his mind at her words but he allowed none to leave his lips.

Instead, he extended an arm, a silent invitation to leave and with no regret whatsoever, Luna accepted.

Her feet had barely touched the ground at his house in Spinner's End when she flung herself against him, her arms winding around his waist, her face pressed against his coat.

He teetered a little, caught by surprise and he had only just found his own footing after apparating. Automatically, his arms closed around her, returning the hug without conscious thought.

"What happened? What's wrong?"

"There was someone there, Severus, at Mr. Crouch's house. In the bedroom upstairs. I couldn't see their face but they were bad, really bad. I don't know how I knew that but I did," she said.

"Mrs. Crouch is reportedly quite ill, Luna," his response was vague, thoughtful.

"My dad says that sometimes evil can form body waves that not everyone can sense. Maybe it was that. But what they were, it wasn't sick, not like you mean. They were diseased with something worse than an ailment," Luna continued to cling to him, a small shudder going through her as she thought about the shadow person in the chair.

His fingers ruffled her hair softly and his voice was still speculative.

"Mrs. Crouch, could it have been her? This person, were they male or female?"

He felt another tremble. Whoever she had met, they had certainly affected her keenly.

"They were corrupted in some way. But I couldn't tell if it was a woman. The voice was just raspy. And I never saw anything more than the shape of their hand," Luna pressed her eyes closed as though trying to squeeze the memory from her mind.

"And the plot thickens," he intoned, sounding not at all perturbed by this thought.

Luna, I need you to come with me afterall. There is someone else we need to talk to," Snape's mind was moving fast, pieces of the puzzle assembling, reshaping, new but definite pictures forming.

Then he looked down at the small form pressed against him.

"But if you would like a little time, first, then that is alright too," he added, his tone far less brusque.

Luna took a deep breath, paused, let herself lean into the strength of him for another beat and then stood away. She rolled her shoulders.

"No. I'm ready,"

Then she looked at him quizzically.

"Where are we going?"

His lips quirked in a wry smile that she had not asked this before agreeing to accompany him so readily. If she was placed into Slytherin, he would eat his shoe!

He extended an arm once more.

"Hogwarts."

The word was barely out of his mouth when the scene before was shifting with gut wrenching swiftness and his hallway vanished.

Luna's feet settled on the dusty pebbles of a laneway that wound through a a country village, redolent with summer sunshine. The sleepy magical hamlet of Hogsmeade soaked up the heat and quiet of holiday time.

It was as though darkness was an imagined thing, standing here in the contented afternoon sunlight.

Yet Snape knew it was near. He could feel it. And for the first time since this airy creature had floated into his life, he felt that he could name it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

 **DISCLAIMER - None of these delightful characters are mine, all belong to JK Rowling.**

As Headmaster of the most prestigious school of magic on the globe for longer than he cared to remember, Albus Dumbledore had experienced his fair share of surprising encounters in this office. Few had ever quite matched the slightly surreal circumstance of hosting his dour Potions Master together with a child who looked as though she had been playing dress up.

Buttercups were woven through the fine tumble of the golden hair, matching the shade perfectly, large silver sickles dangled from her ears and around her neck hung a string of what looked remarkably like table forks. Yet, her eyes were clear and focused and bright with an acumen that was entirely masked by the rest of appearance.

The events she was recounting at Snape's invitation were as bizarre and disconcerting as her attire but she spoke of them with certainty, command and no self doubt whatsoever. She and Severus were quite a lot alike, the ancient wizard reflected privately. Neither was fully what they appeared to be, both were possessed of rapier sharp intellects and both wanted the world to believe they were entirely self sufficient.

"And nothing this person in the chair said was a threat at all?" his blue eyes, met Luna's youthful regard of him, curious and kind.

"Oh no. Their words weren't threatening. They were, the evil within. I'd be a goner now if I hadn't got a whiff of that," Luna replied equably. Only the very young could be so serene about their mortality, Dumbledore thought, steepling his long fingers beneath his chin.

His eyes flickered to meet Severus' dark study. The Head of Slytherin had remained standing, as was his habit. He lifted an eyebrow, the message silent but clear; There you have it. As only Luna can tell it.

Luna was seated at the desk, opposite the Headmaster. She liked his crimson robes, the way they were trimmed with gold and how they matched his beautiful phoenix. The bird balanced on a gilded stand, his magnificent plumage catching the rays of the sun that slanted through the window of the tower that housed Professor Dumbledore's office. A silver implement, round and inscribed with delicate carvings that Luna knew were runes in an old, old language sat on a spindly legged table near her arm. It chirped cheerfully at intervals and emitted little puffs of steam that were fragrant with the scent of violets.

"Luna, you have given me a very valuable account and I thank you for your courage and your honesty. You have very fine instincts and I hope that you always maintain the courage to trust them," the Headmaster said in his warm voice.

He lifted the lid from a trophy shaped crystal container in front of him and extended the jar to Luna.

"Help yourself to a sherbet, my dear," he offered and Luna happily accepted, popping the brightly coloured treat between her teeth, her eyes widening a little as the fiz of sugary, honey flavoured sweetness erupted like stars in her mouth.

Severus dropped a hand onto her shoulder.

"Luna. Perhaps you would like to visit Hagrid a while. I would like a word with the Headmaster in private," he said.

Obediently, Luna rose to her feet but as she turned, she looked up at him.

"You have an idea what all of this is about, haven't you? Do you know what has happened to my father, Severus? Is that what you are going to discuss?"

"If I had that information, I would not keep it from you. Leave us now," his expression was not unkind but it was firm.

In her absence, Dumbledore sighed and bowed his head.

"I am glad you are here, Severus. I was going to contact you. I have spoken with Sybil. What she told me casts the events of recent days into a rather different perspective," he said.

"There is also rather important news from Azkaban. Barty Crouch Junior died there. Early this morning, I understand."

Snape's brows drew close together in a pensive frown, his only reaction to this announcement.

"I admit, this business looked liked his handiwork. Crouch was fanatical in his devotion to the Dark Lord. Ferreting information to garner his favour, that was his style. But he never left Azkaban, this we know," the master of the dungeons replied.

"And of Lord Voldemort, Severus?" the old wizard's eyes were sharp.

"Whereabouts unconfirmed. Rumours continue to circle among a few. Eastern Europe remains the likeliest hideout, Romania, most probably. Nothing definite. And none know of any reach out to old supporters here. Not one of his most trusted inner circle have heard even a whisper," Snape reported. As a member of that society himself, his certainty was absolute.

"All the more reason the incidents of this summer are disturbing. Not least because despite the suspicious nature of his activities, Bartemius Crouch clings to wizarding law as a drowning man to a raft. It is not in his nature to break the rules, Severus," Dumbledore said.

"That he would stray from his nature is something I struggled to understand. Above all his hatred for the Death Eaters defined his career in Magical Law Enforcement. Why would he now turn to doing their work for them?" he stroked his long, snow white beard.

"I wondered the same. Breaking in to my house. Returning to the scene full of fake concern, attacking the girl? As I say, actions that pointed to the son far more than the father. He has not been under the Imperius Curse. I made certain of that today," Severus said.

"Yet he said something that was interesting. He said he would not have wished for Luna to be hurt. It was an accidental admission of knowledge of the deed but at the same time, implying no direct involvement."

Snape thought about the confrontation today, the distress that Crouch harboured.

"But there was something in his mind, I could see it. A worry, a deep seated anxiety for someone close to him. I could not see more clearly than that. But he knew of the one responsible. It terrified him."

A skilled Legilimens, Severus Snape could see inside the mind of another with magic so light, they never even suspected. Few things were ever truly private from him, unless he permitted it or chose to respect it. Dumbledore was mildly impressed Barty Crouch had succeeded in keeping him out as much as he had.

"And for the last piece of this puzzle, we turn to Sybil. She is quite the conversationalist when her beloved sight is the topic," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"I have had a little more tea this summer than I might have liked but what I now know is that my dear Professor Trelawney was being courted by Xenophilius for a while a few months ago. Nothing came of it, something about seeing a dark shadow over the heart and the solitude that feeds the inner eye doomed the romance," he recounted, smiling as Severus' lip lifted in an impatient curl.

"This was undoubtedly how he came by the detail of the prophesy. Sybil slipped into one of her real states when she was with him I surmise. What I did not realise is that the good woman has been operating a little side line to supplement her teaching income," Dumbledore's eyes grew serious. They met the darker, keen stare of his younger, sterner colleague.

"Sybil has been doing readings for select clients," he added.

"Such as the wife of a prominent ministry official? Snape's drawl was met with a brief nod from the Headmaster.

"I suspect I am filling in the blanks to a conclusion you have already reached, Severus," Dumbledore met the knowing eyes of the Potions Master.

"Mrs Crouch's descent to madness has been disguised by Barty's story of her illness. He has been very loyal to her, the burden of his guilt must be great. Her suffering is too awful to contemplate. The boy was their only son, just nineteen years old when he was condemned by his own father," the silver haired wizard's already lined face looked suddenly older, wearier as sadness weighed on him.

"The heart broken mother of a doomed son, she sought a little solace from a Seer and from here we can but guess that Sybil inadvertently leaked the prophesy," Dumbledore closed his eyes a moment. How it is when sorrow heaps upon sorrow,

"Barty has kept prying eyes and questions at bay with the tale of her sickness. But things have spiralled. The death of the boy was clearly the last straw. What Luna confronted today was a soul rent with grief and remorse. A broken heart has no cure," he said softly.

Snape's gaze faltered for less than a heart beat. He clasped his hands behind his back.

"The question, Headmaster is what to do now. Crouch cannot keep her secure, even he must see that after the past few days. She has orchestrated an attack on an eleven years old child. Revenge for her son or hoping for a return of the Dark Lord with a key to his good graces, we may never know what her motives were or how deep her instability" he said.

Dumbledore nodded his agreement.

"Fudge is meeting with Crouch personally. As Minister for Magic he is aware of the seriousness of the situation but also of the sensitivities involved, Severus. There will be a ceremony for the boy they lost and then, Fudge will arrange for the wretched woman to be treated at St. Mungo's. Barty will make no objection, I understand."

Snape pursed his lips and lowered his eyes. He took a step towards the door.

"The girl will be safe. She begins term here on Monday. It will be a great relief to her to know that she is no longer in danger," he said.

"But none of this gives her the one answer she seeks," he added.

"No. Perhaps the healers at St. Mungos can unlock some of the things Mrs. Crouch has imprisoned within her mind, Severus. We wait and there is still hope," the wisdom of the head of this school was deep as was his capacity for kindness.

Yet even he could not offer solace for a child who had lost the last remnant of her family. And Snape, who knew himself guilty of trading nobility for influence, compassion for solitude felt utterly inadequate to offer her the emotional haven she needed and deserved. So far, he had failed in finding her father, an unforgivable letdown.

He had his hand on the handle of the door when Dumbledore's voice stopped him.

"The risk to Miss Lovegood may have passed, Severus. Her need for respite in the absence of her father has not. I trust that you are to be relied upon to maintain your guardianship as uncertainty endures?"

Snape's head moved in the barest of nods before he exited with nothing more than a whisper of his cloak. He did not speak. He was afraid that to do so would betray just how much he himself had come to rely on playing that role.

His progress across the sun drenched grounds of the school was rapid and silent. With no students flitting about, the castle had the air of the regal home of a rich earl or peer of the realm. Or at least it had until he rounded the curving green of the lawn and caught sight of the Gamekeper's cottage, with it's dark thatched roof that sagged in the middle. The creature that cantored happily before the front door could never be mistaken for the offspring of a thoroughbred from a fine stable. Leathery wings sprouted from a sinewy body and Snape instantly knew it to be a thestral foal. The presence of the magical creature dispelled the illusion that this was an ordinary castle.

Tinkling laughter reached him before he caught sight of the girl, running lightly before the beast, letting it nibble gently on the ends of her hair. He stopped and watched, seeing the vigour and enthusiasm that enhanced her every gesture. Merlin, how could anyone be so young, so pure, he wondered, seeing her carefree expression as she played with the foal.

At that moment, Luna looked up, saw him standing on the grass above the hut and ran towards him, eyes sparkling.

"Easy there, Orion. That isn't very polite," she was out of breath as she laughingly scolded the creature which greeted Snape by chewing on the hem of his cloak.

Severus remained still but his gaze travelled down his nose, his expression fixed and without mirth.

"Orion?" his eyes flickered to Luna.

"A good name for him, he flies really high. I'm quite sure he'd make it right to the stars if he wanted to," she said.

"I will take your word for it," he looked up as the massive form of the Keeper of the Keys emerged from the darkened doorway of the hut.

"Ah, Professor Snape, Sir. Here fer your young lady? We've had a lovely visit and Orion here, he's beside himself to see her again. Remembers 'is friends, 'e does," Hagrid's hazelnut eyes twinkled above the impressively bushy beard.

"An admirable quality I'm sure," Snape's lip lifted as though he was smelling something the thestral might have deposited on the grass.

Again, his eyes found the girl who had planted herself by his elbow.

"Our business here is concluded. If you are ready?" he rose an eyebrow at her.

"Oh yes," she gasped, still finding her breath after the chase with the little animal.

She looked back at the towering form of the Gamekeeper.

"Thank you, Hagrid. Tea was lovely and I'm glad the felicities have settled in and aren't too much trouble. I'll see you in a few days, I suppose," she lifted a hand in a farewell salute.

"Take care of yourself, now, Luna. You be good for Professor Snape and we'll see you right soon," Hagrid gave her a beaming smile.

She matched his fleet footed march to the ornate gates of the castle, even if it did cause her to have to jog a little. By the time they reached Hogsmeade, she was out of breath. Neither had spoken on the short journey. Luna wanted to ask quite a few questions but held them back.

His profile was grimly set, his jaw tight, his eyes fixed on the distance. He hardly seemed to remember that she was with him. Luna knew there would be no point trying to talk with him just then. It was just as good anyway, she didn't think she had enough wind left to say hello, much less manage a decent conversation.

At the village he reached towards her, hardly even glancing at her. Then, within a beat before he apparated, he looked down, saw the damp tendrils of hair that framed her face, saw the high colour on her cheeks.

"You look ready to fall down!" he couldn't keep the surprise from his tone. To Luna, he sounded mildly aggravated. She swept a hand across her brow, drew in a deep breath.

"A little brisk exercise is no bad thing," she said tranquil.

He took in the pinking of the sky, the lengthening shadows.

"I never did buy you that ice cream. Would a visit to Honeydukes compensate, do you think?" his eyes slanted at her from his considerable height.

"That sounds very lovely, Severus," Luna looked up the street to where the magical sweetshop nestled next to the cobbles, just on a bend not far from where they had stopped.

He reached into his pocket and withdrew a handful of shiny coins.

"Off you go, then. Choose as you wish. I will be here when you are done," he said.

The shop, with its barrels of jewel coloured sweets, its shelves heaving with jars of candy false teeth that really chattered, Bertie Botts every flavoured beans, liquorice wands and many more mouth watering treats could have held Luna's attention for hours. Yet she purchased a modest assortment of chocolate frogs without delay and was back on the street quickly.

The Professor was standing where she had left him, just as he said he would be and his head was bowed, an inky curtain of hair falling to hide his face. He was looking down at something in his hand and it as only as Luna drew closer that she recognised the object he was holding as the coin she had given him at the start of the summer.

He looked up and pocketed the coin, his eyebrows rising a little as she reached him.

"Well that was fast! You are either a very accomplished shopper, Luna or the merits of 'retail therapy' have yet to win you over!" he tone was bemused, his eyes still held that far away, troubled shadow within their dark depths.

She gripped his arm without another word and in the blink of an eye, she was back in the familiar surrounds of his urban home.

Almost immediately, a disagreeable restlessness gripped her. Her guardian had returned to silence as he banished his cloak to its hanger by the stairs and he stepped into the living room without a backward look at her. Luna was used to his taciturn ways, to his day time absences. Neither perturbed her at all.

This brooding quiet was not comfortable, it made her skin itch. She went and stood by the doorway.

"Are you hungry, Severus? I can make a sandwich?"

Silence.

"Or maybe I'll just feed Galahad. He's probably wondering where I've gotten to."

Nothing.

Still she lingered in the doorway, longing to ask the questions that buzzed in her mind, afraid of what he clearly did not want to say.

"And I should see about packing my trunk, I suppose. I've been putting it off but no time like the present."

He had been standing with his back to her, but he turned now, slowly, gracefully. The look on his face was pained, and his eyes narrowed as his gaze fell on her.

He took two or three steps back to the door, moving as though gliding on an unseen current. His movement was slow, deliberate.

Then, he was standing over her, looming, really and Luna's head fell back to bring her eyes to his face.

"Sandwiches? Packing? Luna, why are you not raging at me? You should be standing here spitting ire, Merlin knows you have the right!" he snarled.

"Instead, listen to you, trying to appease me by the sounds of it! Why are you not furious? I have dragged you around today like a sack of floo powder, walked you into a scary house full of mad people to do my bidding and did you complain? Not a peep! You are disappointed, you are afraid and you stand here trying to put me at my ease!"

He stared down at her. She had not moved.

"So yell at me. Get angry! It has to be there and I have earned it!"

He turned away again, lifting a hand to rub at the crease in his forehead with his knuckle. The torrent of his words vanished like vapour back into the silence of the room.

"I am not angry with you, Severus. How could I be? Everything you have done today, for weeks has been for me," the green eyes were worried now. Luna felt a keen distress at the torment she heard in his voice. Suddenly, she felt very young, very childish. Her fry tacks and Googlehoffs were no shield against the upset visited upon another. And she could not think how to alleviate it, though she really wished it otherwise.

"What are you made of, Luna Lovegood? You are not tall enough to see over my shoulder and nothing the past few weeks have thrown at you has bowed you! Dented you maybe, winded you some but you are far from broken. I know of grown men who would be blubbering heaps by now," he shook his head, looking back over his shoulder to regard her rather sadly.

"And I am no match for you, child. I have let you down, you wait for news of your father and every day, I bring you a heaping portion of nothing."

He came back to stand in front of her once more. His time, he reached out and took her hand in his.

"Come, you are certainly owed some explanations and I can at least give you that," he said, leading her to the couch.

Sitting beside him, Luna felt a measure of right return. His outburst had dispersed the oppressive silence and the twitchy, on edge feeling that had so irritated her lifted.

He would tell her the truth, there was enormous comfort in that. Up to this summer, her fears had centred on the possibility of never finding the right wand to work magic successfully. Or if she would ever meet a wizard who would fall head over heels in love with her and who owned his own mansion and unicorn herd as in her dreams. Or the very worst of them, that she might forget what her mother had looked like.

Her dad had always found the right words to chase them away, well two of the three, she hadn't shared much about the handsome wizard and the unicorns. He had told her that her magic was in her heart and wand or no wand, when she was old enough she would learn to free it. And on her last birthday, he had given her an old mirror and told her that any time she wished to be reminded of her mum, to look there.

Luna realised now that these terrors were but the thorns of childhood, their bite easily pruned. She knew that there were other, more sinister barbs ready to cut you and tangle the path of your life. And the Professor knew that sweet words weren't enough to drive them back. Instead, he could teach her to stand firm. Knowing what you faced and what you could do about it, that was where lay the power to overcome real fear.

Luna met his eyes evenly as he spoke of a woman drenched in sorrow, a woman so beset with grief that her mind somehow fractured.

"Did Mrs Crouch harm my father, Severus?" Luna asked the question, her gaze faltering just a shade as she spoke.

"I do not know, Luna. I'm afraid she did have something to do with whatever happened to him but remember, she is simply too far gone to answer any questions about her actions in the last weeks," he said.

"But you believe she broke in here that day, that she sent the elf after me?"

"I believe she is responsible for those events. She may not have personally carried them out. Apart from the elf, she must have had an accomplice and I will find them, whoever they may be," his eyes darkened further as he said the words, his lips tightened.

"How terrible it must be to feel such pain," Luna's eyes dropped to study her hands, clasped in her lap.

"When my mother died, my dad didn't smile for a long time. He did a lot of writing. We didn't grow roses in the garden after that. They were her favourite and dad said seeing them made his eyes feel sad," Luna told him.

"The sadness didn't fill all his heart though, there was still room left to love me. Poor Mrs. Crouch, she missed her son so much, she forgot to keep her love alive."

Severus' expression was harsh. He could not fathom how she could feel any measure of compassion for the woman who had brought such calamity to her own life. Pondering this unexplainable phenomenon made him feel weary, the long day suddenly weighing on him.

And perhaps because he was tired, Luna's words prodded a nerve in the recesses of his own mind. Something long buried, that he had never allowed himself to fully examine stirred. To ache so much you felt every shred of yourself shatter, Severus knew how that felt. Luna's expression was the innocent, yet insightful articulation of a child. To forget to keep your ability to love after enduring a loss, it was a very uncomplicated way of imagining the bitterness that could infect a damaged, broken heart. He didn't have to imagine it, he lived it.

She was quiet a long time, sitting there on his couch, in his shadow, her eyes away from him, hiding whatever thoughts passed within. He knew this was a retreat, he had seen her do it before, Waiting was one of the things he could do very well and its what he did now.

When at last Luna had processed her thoughts and could let him back in, she looked up into his face.

"The trail to find Dad has gone cold now. That's what you haven't said."

It was a statement, not a question, one he wished he could refute. He had not said it, hoping the omission might have gone unnoticed. It was a foolish hope, Luna listened well, attuned to what was not spoken.

She stood up and from her vantage point she looked back down to where he still sat.

"I thought it would be harder to face that. But then I remembered, there's you. You won't give up, you said that already. And it seems to me it's lucky I remembered. That's an awful lot to have going for me."

Shock reverberated within him. Then came the raw, unfiltered agony of seeing the tornado come and being unable to stop it wiping away what was precious. How could he ever hope to live up to trust so willingly gifted?

"Luna…" his voice was a ghost of whisper.

He closed his eyes and in the darkness, felt the weight of the day grow heavier, felt his own strength ebb beneath it.

Summoning the reserve of his stamina, he rose to his feet, opened his eyes, looked at her with total calm on his face.

"Of course I am not giving up. I gave you my word. I cannot guarantee the outcome but where ever this road leads, Luna, we are on it, you and I and until there is no more, on we go," the black eyes settled on her as inside himself, his emotional equilibrium see sawed with sickening speed.

Being disliked, despised, distrusted, this was territory he knew and could control. He almost longed to get it back.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

 **DISCLAIMER - None of these delightful characters are mine, all belong to JK Rowling.**

Luna's last night at Spinner's End began with a hurried supper though which she ate little and talked less. The meal was barely over when she withdrew to her room to concentrate on packing. In fact, this task consisted of emptying the meagre contents of her carpet bag into the new trunk the Professor had bought for her, with its gleaming brass fittings and sturdy wood that was polished to a luminous shine.

Seeing as that took all of eight minutes, she decided to take her things out, refold the clothes, rearrange her few possessions into neat little piles in the bottom of the container. This she did slowly, this time stretching the job over twelve minutes. Still, the sky outside was light with the tapering of a summer's evening.

Luna contemplated another go at the packing, accepted that there were only so many ways to pile a small collection of belongings onto a seemingly cavernous space. As a time wasting device, packing held little potential, she concluded.

She looked out the window, saw by now familiar sights. There were the neat gardens of the neighbouring houses, the pavement sloping away to the town at the bottom of the hill, lidded dustbins, flowers drooping as evening drew in, the oak tree at the bottom of the garden that looked like a whiskery colossus and reminded her a little of Hagrid. Perfectly ordinary, just the same as they had looked every day since she had got here. Suddenly, they were not the mundane detritus of residential life, they were incredibly dear to her. She felt a swell of affection for each of them, even for the loose brick on the pathway that always startled Galahad when it wobbled beneath his paws.

Luna wished she could freeze frame this sunny evening, just hold onto it, stay still in it and yet, she could hardly wait for it to pass away, for the next day to be here, to be off on her Hogwarts adventure.

She was lying on her bed, on her side, knees drawn up so she could wrap her arms around them, holding herself in a little ball when a single knock sounded on her door.

"Come in," she called but did not rise.

She heard the door open, heard the whispery fall of light footsteps approach the bed, saw the instantly recognisable shadow of her guardian fall over her.

"Luna. Are you ill?"

"No. Not at all. I am… Severus, I don't know what I am. I think going to Hogwarts will be wonderful but then I think it would be quite nice to stay here, for the holidays to last a little longer," she rolled a golden strand of hair around her finger.

"It is strange to want something and not want it at the same time. This is what it must be like to be a hafflot. They have two minds, neither will ever agree with the other. They live in The Black Forest in Germany, my dad says. I am feeling just like that," she said.

"Nervous. That is what you are feeling and it is completely normal," he responded.

She roused, sat up, swung her legs over the edge of the bed, her hands tucked under them, fingers clutching the duvet.

"For a blissfully successful career as a student at Hogwarts, there is only one thing you need to remember," he said, looking down at the hunched form.

"To always address the Potions Master with respect and reverence," she said and lifted her head to look him in the eye.

His lips twitched, his eyebrow arched.

"If you are able to be insolent, you will certainly live. I need not have worried," the sardonic tone was layered with amusement.

"I was going to say, little Miss Lovegood, that you need to remember only that Hogwarts is the finest school of witchcraft in the world and if you have been accepted there, everything else will follow if you work at it. Mind you, you are entirely correct about the Potions Master," the shadowy eyes glinted at her.

He eased himself onto the edge of the mattress, finding a place beside her, resting his hands on his knees.

"I won't be staying in your quarters anymore, will I?" she trained her eyes on the rug.

"No. You will be sorted into your house and then, you will have a dorm with your classmates. You will soon find friends among them," he said.

Then he slanted a look at her. He reached out a hand, lifting her chin between his thumb and forefinger, so that she was facing him. He lowered his head and found her eyes with his.

"This does not mean that I will stop being your guardian. And it does not mean that my home will stop being yours also. My quarters are open to you always," he spoke quietly but his words were imbued with steel.

"If I wished to stay some nights in my old room, would that be alright?" the question carried a little doubt, a little hope, a little need. And he heard all of it.

"Yes. And if you would care to join me for a private supper on an evening during the week, that would be very welcome, Luna," his eyes stayed trained on hers.

Her face cleared considerably. It was a gallant, elegant offer and she gave a consenting nod.

"I think I would like that very much," she said with a stately grace of her own.

"You may find that your contemporaries wouldn't necessarily agree that a summons to my company is much of a bonus," the corner of his lips quirked.

"It's the shuttlers. They are rather bothersome for some but they don't frighten me," Luna nodded decisively.

He quashed a smile and brought his hands together in his lap. Then his face grew serious.

"Luna, I must ask that the details that emerged this summer stay between you and I and Professor Dumbledore. Most importantly, that you speak of the prophesy your father mentioned to no-one," he said.

"Oh, of course. Dad would not be pleased if I were to leak his Quibbler business, that is for sure. And I would like to forget everything else, never mind wave them about school," she remembered the sadness of the Crouch household, the foul atmosphere that pervaded the upstairs bedroom. A shudder passed through her and her colour paled a little.

Then her eyes shot to his face.

"But I would not like to forget that I met you, Severus. Or that you have been my good friend," she looked at him intently, wanting to be certain he did not misunderstand her earlier expression.

Then she gave a crooked little smile of her own.

"But you don't want me to make mention of that either," she said, rewarded with his nod of approval.

"It is no secret that you are my ward. But you are quite correct, that is enough for anyone to know about it. You are a sharp minded girl, you will be absolutely fine at Hogwarts," his tone was warm.

"Which is weight off my mind. I see I am to be spared having to deliver to you my standard, patented warning for wards of mine starting school," he nodded at her.

"Do you have one? A warning, that is" she asked, incredulous.

"No but if I were to devise one, I cannot see how I could go wrong demanding best behaviour, hard work and that you be a good student for your teachers, showing the proper respect and obedience. It's failsafe."

"And falling short would mean what, then?" she watched his face.

"I'm sure I could think of something. Sending you to bed without supper or cutting off your pocket money, something like that. Let's hope I don't have to resort to such drastic measures," there was a twinkle in his eyes.

"But meals are served in The Great Hall. And you haven't given me pocket money," she gave him a smile and he was glad to see the cares she had been nursing evaporate, so that her face was clear, her eyes bright.

"I shall have to consult those shuttlers for advice," he chuckled.

He murmured the accio command and suddenly, a small parcel materialised in his hand. It was wrapped in plain brown paper, tied with twine. Luna looked at it with interest.

"Starting at Hogwarts is a special time in the life of a witch or wizard. I thought that you should have something to mark it. So this," he held the unglamorous parcel toward her.

Taken aback, Luna reached out automatically and took it from him.

"A gift? But you have given me so much already, Severus," she blinked, surprised.

"It is my prerogative as your guardian to give you what I feel you need or deserve," he said, haughty.

Luna looked down at the rectangular package sitting on her lap. She studied it for several seconds before she clasped a finger and thumb on the loose end of the string that bound it and pulled, slowly.

The wrapping fell away and a little pile of books sat within, topped with three shining spools of sylvan thread and a curving, snow white feather, tipped with silver, one of the most beautiful quills Luna had ever seen.

Her eyes widened, she drew in a quick gasp. Even as the fine sophistication of the quill enchanted her, the titles of the books caused her heart to kick up several beats. They were written by some of her favourite authors and she let her fingers glide over them, barely able to contemplate that they were hers.

"Severus. I don't know what to say," she whispered.

"Well that's a blessing. I was afraid you were likely to launch into one of your odes of gratitude. I was half tempted to slip you a sleeping draught just to avoid it," he said dryly.

"Would you mind terribly if I were to keep some of the books in your quarters? That way, I'll have something to read when I visit" she looked up at him.

"That would be acceptable," he rose to his feet.

As the bedroom door closed behind him with a soft thunk, Luna set the pile of beloved books, the thread and the lovely quill carefully among her other possessions, glad to have additional belongings to pack in her trunk. She was ready, Hogwarts waited, she was on her way to being a witch and she didn't have to worry because she had someone to turn to if things were difficult or scary. It wasn't everything she wished for but it was a very good place to start.

The following evening, in the soft descent of a velvet night, Severus delivered her to the platform of the tiny railway station at Hogsmeade.

Dressed in robes so new, they rustled crisply when she moved, Luna watched for the arrival of the most famous train in the magical world, The Hogwarts Express.

"Luna, it is here that I leave you. Hagrid is on his way and when he gets here I will make my way to the castle. Once the train gets in, Hagrid will take you all to the school," the Professor's voice was as mellow as the evening.

"The boat trip, is it true that is how First Years make the journey?" she looked up at him.

"It is," he remembered his own, the sense of voyaging into the unknown, sailing towards a destiny he could only sense.

Luna glanced sideways at him but it was as though he was melting into the night, the black robes indistinct from the shadows growing from a dying day.

"Would you be very cross if I were to say just one thank you for everything you have done for me this summer?" she looked straight ahead at the empty tracks that lay beyond the end of platform.

"It's safe to say you seem to have risked it one way or the other," he retorted but without aggravation.

"Well hello there! Nuthin' like arriving early, ahead of the posse so ter speak!" Hagrid's greeting was cheery as he walked into sight. Cloaked in a tent like moleskin overcoat and stomping in boat sized boots, he seemed to dwarf the little station.

"Hello Hagrid," Luna smiled at him.

"Evenin' Luna. Professor."

But Hagrid's eyes, at far too much of a height for Luna to see, were on Snape, who returned the gaze intent.

Hagrid did not need any Legilimens skill to read the unspoken message. He gave a nod of his great, shaggy head.

"You'll be safe as houses with me, Luna. Get you right to the castle, I will," he said but his words were not for the girl's benefit and he and Snape both knew it.

The unsmiling expression did not change but the Potions Master looked down at his young charge.

"Enjoy the feast, Luna," he said quietly and then, as the first merry hoot of a steam whistle sounded in the star spangled distance, he was gone.

Within a heartbeat, the rattling sounds of an approaching train became a trundling roar. Then, with a hissing groan, the Hogwarts Express juddered to a halt. Wide-eyed, Luna watched as the carriage doors opened and what followed was like an explosion of sound and movement.

Laughing, talking, groups of students leaped and bounded from the train, robes fluttering in the early evening breeze. It was easy to tell which were the First Years as they were not only smaller in size than their older counterparts but they exited the train with noticeably greater apprehension.

Into this melee, Hagrid's calls for First Years to follow him drew small clusters of bemused students, wearing expressions of confusion, nervousness and excitement. Luna drifted with them towards the hulking form of the groundskeeper, partially obscured by the snowy clouds of steam that huffed from the train.

They followed their guide until they arrived at the whispering shore of a darkened lake. The reflection of the stars freckled the midnight blue surface.

Someone jostled against Luna and she looked up into the round face and worried eyes of a tall boy who was fluttering about in a fidgety, anxious way.

"Oh sorry. I've lost my toad. I'm afraid he'll have gone off into the water by himself. He's a bit old for swimming," the boy was apologising while still casting about, peering at the ground.

Luna looked too but all she could see were the hundreds of shoes trodding along or shuffling as their owners waited for further instruction from Hagrid.

"Toads are excellent swimmers and the mer people are very good about directing lost water beings to the castle," Luna said.

The boy looked back at her, hope rising in his eyes despite his distraction.

"Really? Well, that's a relief. Still I'd like to find Trevor. Hi, I'm Neville, by the way," he extended a pudgy hand and Luna shook it, introducing herself as she did so.

"Lovegood? As in Loony Lovegood? Didn't your crazy dad go off his rocker this summer? Have they found him yet? Or are they still asking around all his imaginary friends?"

A pale, thin faced boy with white blond hair was eyeing Luna, the glint in his eyes as scathing as his mocking words. A sneer lifted the corner of his narrow lips and several people around him tittered.

"Best you ask Professor Snape, Luna's guardian about that, Mr Malfoy. See what 'e's got ter say 'bout it," the mountainous form of Hagrid spoke from behind them, startling the pale boy into a grudging silence. Still, he glared at Luna and Hagrid also for that matter as if he was afraid of catching something nasty.

"Now, let's get into the boats, I'll take the first one," Hagrid stepped into a bow shaped craft that looked as though it would surely sink beneath his weight, much less take anyone else.

It stayed afloat and Hagrid encouragingly beckoned to a knot of students dallying on the shore and a curly haired girl, a red haired boy and another, shorter, dark haired boy were among those who inched uncertainly forward. The dark haired lad was wearing glasses and was drawing the fascinated interest of the crowd on the shore. Whispers raced around, people were nudging each other and pointing.

"Harry Potter! It's him. There was a rumour he was on the train! So it's true, he's come to Hogwarts!"

But Luna was more interested in the way the boat began to glide across the water, no rowing involved. Hagrid's lantern was a little airborne golden globe holding back the night.

"Come on, everyone. Get into the boats now or we'll all be late for the feast!" Hagrid shouted and his own came to a graceful halt while he waited and watched to make sure all of the First Years were boarded and ready to sail.

It was a night Luna would remember forever, she was sure. It was as though she had never seen the castle before, watching it drift into sight in the inky distance, the lights in the windows like the flight of a million starflies.

There was a new energy she had never felt before, anticipation buzzed like the sparks of a dynamic enchantment, it was being more alive than she had ever known.

Waiting to be brought to the Great Hall, feeling butterflies tumble at the prospect of unknown things that lay behind the huge oak doors, Luna had the completely new sensation of feeling in union with others. They like her were excited, a little afraid, unknowing of what lay ahead.

As she filed into the Great Hall, waiting to be sorted into her house, along with everyone else, Luna was intensely aware of being the focus of thousands of eyes as the other students looked on and she could barely contain her trepidation. She glanced a few times at the teachers' table, where her guardian sat, still as a statue, his black eyes fixed on a point in the middle distance. He gave no indication that he had seen her come in, his expression was remote and slightly bored. Yet Luna felt the worst of the nerves ease just knowing he was there.

"A Ravenclaw? Not quite Slytherin but I wouldn't have guessed," Professor Dumbledore caught Snape's eye as Luna emerged beaming from beneath the ragged Sorting Hat.

"Luna will be immensely pleased. Her mother was Ravenclaw. She didn't like to say it outright for fear of offending me but she had her hopes set," Severus replied.

He cast a pensive look at the girl who was settling herself at the Ravenclaw table, flushing as her housemates clapped in welcome. The selection didn't surprise him in the least, though Professor McGonagall was looking at the Sorting Hat as though it has malfunctioned and her eyes flickered, puzzled, to the Hufflepuff table.

Snape half smiled, Minerva wouldn't be the first to underestimate the clever mind that lurked behind the crazy attire and eccentric beliefs. Luna didn't conform to the traditional view of an intellectual but he remembered how she had gotten out of his house before the break in, how she had tapped into the malice of Mrs Crouch that afternoon, the way she could read a situation before most people would have picked up on the first marker. Yes, she would be at home in Ravenclaw.

He let his eyes drift across the youthful sea of students before him. Most were known to him, the new ones he would come to know soon enough. His eyes lit on the bespectacled boy that was laughing at something his red headed companion had said. The red head had to the youngest Weasley boy and the other, with those emerald eyes, it was Harry Potter. Snape didn't need sight of the lightening bolt scar to recognise him. The boy looked up, the laugh on his face faded as he met Severus' eyes of flint. The boy looked away quickly. Not a muscle on Snape's face moved but he felt a comic tickle as he wondered if he should blame the shuttlers.

Luna tucked into the resplendent meal that welcomed her and the other students to the start of the new term. She had noted a thousand things she twitched to tell her guardian as the wondrous evening unfolded. Such as the way the boat had sailed as though on air, not water, how it felt to have the sorting hat placed on your head and hear its voice and know she was the only one who could. Then there was the food at the feast and how different Professor Dumbledore sounded when he gave his address than he did when talking to them in his office. Luna wanted to ask him if he'd noticed how Mrs Norris seemed to intimidate some students when Luna knew that she loved being sung to, or how every student believed he wanted to be the Darks Arts teacher.

She felt a little stab of emptiness at knowing that she would not be retiring to his library tonight, to his company and all of the information and new experiences she had come by even in the last few hours would be hers alone for now.

As the meal ended and Professor Dumbledore concluded with a warning about the Forbidden Forest, Luna, along with the Ravenclaws stood to make her way to the common room and dorms. Tiny little Professor Flitwick had come to their table to welcome the First Years and had charged the prefects with leading the newcomers to the dorms.

A tall girl whose name Luna did not know but who was sporting a badge that announced her as a prefect began marshalling the First Years and as they filed from the Great Hall, she came to walk beside Luna.

"You're Luna Lovegood?" she asked and as Luna nodded, she extended a hand and pressed a small square of folded parchment into Luna's palm.

Curious, Luna glanced downwards but as she made to open the note the other girl shook her head.

"You're not to read it until you are in your dorm. Come on, this way. And welcome to Ravenclaw! I read your Dad's article on spidergants a while back. I really enjoyed it," the girl smiled.

The Raveclaw common room was decorated in beautiful shades of silver and blue and though not particularly tired, Luna lingered in the dorm after she had found her bed. While the others returned the common room, with its cheery fire and comfortable, overstuffed armchairs, Luna held back, sat on the edge of the soft bed and carefully unfolded the crisp parchment.

Instantly, she recognised the meticulous hand.

"Luna. Congratulations on being sorted into Ravenclaw, I have no doubt you will be very happy there. I am free for supper later this week and I look forward to hearing all about your first days as a Hogwarts student. S.S."

Feeling immensely less alone and quite excited at the prospect of the week ahead, Luna stood and went to meet her new friends.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

 **DISCLAIMER - None of these delightful characters are mine, all belong to JK Rowling.**

 ******* AUTHOR** **'** **S NOTE - The words in black are direct quotes *******

" **There will be no foolish wand waving in this class** **…"** with robes of ebony roiling in in his wake, Professor Snape swept into his dungeon classroom, drawing all eyes to him and silencing the banter that was being exchanged as the students took their places behind the rows of benches.

Luna, sitting in the second row watched as he reached the front of the room, felt the nervous energy that held the class in a subdued rapture. The Professor stood stock still and cast his eyes around the room, a faintly disdainful look in his face as though he already found them wanting. Gertrude Gormely, another First Year Ravenclaw, seated beside Luna gulped audibly.

He addressed them, his voice quiet, almost caressing the words as he spoke them, delivering a sophisticated speech that introduced Potions as a subtle and highly skilled art form. He did not need to call the class to order, his very presence held them in his thrall. Luna, like her classmates and the First Year Hufflepuffs who were paired with them for Potions listened as he spoke of brewing glory and putting a stopper in death.

When a boy called Ben Thatcher, who was in Hufflepuff dropped his quill and bent to retrieve it, Snape stopped speaking. He watched with narrowed eyes as the boy bent from his stool to pick up the fallen quill, unaware of the scrutiny. Then, as he straightened, the hush that had fallen began to weigh on him and he looked up at the Professor. Still, Snape maintained his silence and his watchful study of the boy. Uncomfortable beneath it, Ben reddened, shuffled, stared intently ahead, determined to prove his attentiveness.

"Powdered root of asphodel. Perhaps you could enlighten us as to it uses, Mr. Thatcher?" Snape asked languidly.

The boy's colour deepened further.

"Uh, No, Sir, I can't. I don't know what they are," he admitted awkwardly.

Snape took a step towards him. Ben seemed to shrink.

"Let's try another. The juice of the stembellum plant is used to heal what exactly?" the question was rapid fire.

Ben swallowed. Looked around him, as though half hoping to find the answer on the unforgiving stone walls, the fear in his eyes glinting.

"I… I don't know Sir," Ben said in a trembling whisper.

"Well, I am sure you will know this. What is a bezoar, Mr. Thatcher?" Snape's eyes bored into the boy who by now was close to tears,

"I.. I don't know, Sir," this time, it was a barely audible squeak.

Snape turned on his heel, strode back to his place at the top of the room, the perfect execution of boredom.

"I can see how you came to think what I have to say is beneath your attention. I look forward to you dazzling us with your intellect again in the future, Mr. Thatcher," the Professor snapped as the boy visibly breathed now that he was released from the skewering focus of the older wizard.

"Powdered root of asphodel,, when combined with wormwood makes a powerful infusion, known as The Draught of the Living Death. Stembellum juice, also known as Lavender Syrup is a common cure for web toe and the bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat. **It will save you from most poisons.** Have you been stunned, young man, or is there another reason you are not writing this down?" Snape rapped out and the class were galvanised into a flurry of note taking.

On her own stool, Luna clutched the elegant, silver quill. She hadn't taken her eyes off Snape through the entire exchange. Now, she dropped her gaze to the top of the scarred bench in front of her. She didn't look his way again, spending the rest of the lesson deftly and diligently following his instructions as he outlined how to brew a simple antidote to toothache.

She felt rather than saw him approach her bench and when he bent to inspect the contents of her cauldron, all she saw were the tapering fingers of his right hand as he lifted a spoonful of the potion to look at it.

"Very good, Miss Lovegood," he was less than mildly interested and had moved to the next cauldron.

Glad that it had not been she who had drawn his ire in the class, Luna packed up with the others as the lesson ended. She felt the spreading relief of the students at the prospect of imminent escape from the dungeons and Ben Thatcher was the first to leave. Snape had humiliated him to make a point and Luna felt bad about that. It hadn't been fair, it certainly wasn't an equal altercation.

The Professor was at his own desk, his head bent as he straightened a sheaf of parchment before him. Luna exited without another look and went to her next class, The History of Magic, a far less contentious experience, if leaning to the side of dull. That was her last class of the day and as the Ravenclaws made their way to their common room, Luna at first made her way with them but half way along the corridor, changed her mind and instead of going on to the tower room, she retraced her steps downwards, following aged stone steps to the lower quarters of the castle.

This time, the dungeons were quiet, no other students milled about this section of the castle. As Luna let herself into the classroom, Snape was emerging from his store at the rear of the room. He looked up as the door opened, unsurprised to see his young charge standing uncertainly on the threshold. The incident with the Thatcher boy earlier had her almost primping with censure.

"Did you forget something, Luna?" he asked mildly.

"I thought you might like some help," she replied, taking a half step forward.

Snape hid his expression, lowering his head so the fall of his hair shielded the shadow smile. Help boiling himself in oil, he imagined was the unspoken offer though as always, Luna's demeanour was polite and serene.

"Of course," he indicated the bench before him with a sweep of his hand and the invitation drew her into the room but she didn't speak further.

She spent the next forty minutes in a silence that was not uncomfortable but was laden with unsaid things just the same. Snape let it endure, watching as the girl busily filed away vials of ingredients, with scrupulous attention to his briefly spoken guidelines.

Finally, mindful of the approach of supper time and that the Great Hall would soon be filling up, he looked down at her as she lifted her wand, experimentally casting a spell to close the crystal jars of various dry powders on the shelf behind his table.

"So how much work are we going to have to do here before you get to the point and tell me what's bothering you?" he asked.

At last, her eyes flickered to him, surprise skimming across her face. Then, her resolve fastened, she reached a decision, he read it on her face. She was ready to talk to him.

"Nearly everyone here is afraid of you," she said.

He didn't say anything in response to this observation and Luna saw no trace of affront in his expression. But his eyes were speculative. He took a slow breath.

"And it's like you want them to be. I don't understand that," she frowned.

"Nor must you. Being well liked is not an ambition of mine, Luna. That's all you need to know about it."

"I know that you are not unfair. But I saw what happened in the lesson and that didn't match what I thought I knew and that bothers me," she said.

"I can give you a little advice. Always look twice at what you think you know. Trust what you do know. What others think should not sway you from that," his eyes were steady on hers.

"People are always writing off my dad as a kook but I know he takes his work seriously. That's been good enough for me. And I know I trust you. That's good enough too," Luna looked up at him, into the familiar face, so serious but kind.

She thought at first that she had angered him, the muscles on his face tightened, his lips thinned. However, when he spoke, his voice was gentle.

"Let's consider it this way. On the one hand, I am your guardian, on the other, I am a teacher in this school. They are two very different roles, Luna. We may get along better if we can keep them separate."

"Yes," Luna nodded, an understanding dawning.

"It is not being disloyal to find that you don't like what you see of me in either role, child," Severus nodded at her and Luna felt like he'd pulled a thorn from her flesh.

Snape was not going tell her that the exchange with the Thatcher boy was a decades old strategy of his. Make an example of one at the outset, establish control, authority. Instead, he rose a questioning eyebrow.

"You ready for supper, now?"

Luna nodded thankfully. She was starving, she realised and her tummy gave a growl as if to underline the fact.

"And Luna?"

His voice stopped her as her hand fell on the handle of the dungeon door.

"In any of the roles I fulfil, I am here if you need me."

Wondering why she had ever thought badly of him, Luna looked back and gave him a smile that was completely open and full of sun.

She was to learn that others in the school certainly had no trouble thinking the worst of the Potions Master. That week alone, she encountered a group of Gryffindors who were clustered outside the Great Hall, comforting a shell shocked looking second year who was speaking in trembling tones about a detention that same evening with Snape.

Then there was Neville Longbottom, the boy she had encountered on their first evening at Hogwarts. Neville was is Gryffindor and they and Ravenclaws were paired for Herbology. Luna caught up with the boy as he walked across the lawn, his face whiter than the fluffy clouds that skudded across the early autumn sky.

"What's up, Neville?" Luna asked.

She was slightly out of breath as she was carrying an earthenware pot from which sprouted a stout little plant, with rather sharp, pointy leaves, which kept jabbing Luna underneath her chin as she walked. He barely looked at her, his eyes were glued the ground.

"He might actually do me in, y'know. Pr..Pr..Professor Snape," Neville said tremulously.

"He said that my peaceful sleep draught was the worst he's ever seen. He said if I didn't poison myself before the year was out, he'd be amazed." Neville actually whitened further as he recounted the Potions class he had just exited.

Luna said nothing. Again, there was the needling sensation of disquiet at her guardian's acerbic classroom demeanour. Neville was hardly a match for the formidable Professor.

Neville looked up, really looked at her this time and dismay flickered on his face.

"You're his ward, aren't you? You won't tell him what I said will you?" the boy was sounding almost panicked.

Luna shook her head.

"Well of course not. Mine went all lumpy, who am I to talk? Or to remind him of who isn't a star pupil at potions?"

Relieved, Neville noticed the plant. His gloomy appearance lifted as he looked at it.

"That's a Green Star, isn't it? Wherever did you get one of those? They are actually rather rare," he eyes the plant appreciatively.

Glad that the conversation had moved away from the Professor, Luna explained how she had grown the plant from a seed she'd had from her garden at home.

"I left it here over the summer and when I got back, it had fairly grown!" she puffed.

Chivalrously, Neville reached over and took the plant, giving himself a nasty prod on the hand as he did so.

"Thanks. I'm taking it to Herbology as I think it needs to be re-potted but I've no idea how to do it without getting shredded!" she said.

On the Friday afternoon before the appointed supper with her guardian, Luna was in the courtyard in front of the school, enjoying the way the evenings were turning slightly crisper as autumn deepened. She had her Googlehoffs on, her hopes were high that the shadowy corners of the pillared space would be teeming with star crest colonies.

Instead, her interest was drawn by a cluster of Gryffindors, whom she recognised straight away, though she had only spoken to one of them, the brown haired girl, whom she had briefly met in a bathroom between lessons. Hermione Granger was one of a knot of three students, the other two were Ron Weasley and Harry Potter.

Suddenly, the one with the untidy dark hair turned and Luna was looking into the curious emerald eyes of 'The Boy Who Lived'. She smiled shyly and drew a little closer to the trio.

Ron Weasley's mouth fell open slightly as he glanced at her. He had clearly heard of the editor of The Quibbler and was caught off guard at meeting his daughter, Luna understood at once. It was not the first time that she had encountered this reaction on meeting someone for the first time.

"Hi Luna. Harry, Ron, this is Luna Lovegood. Luna, this is Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter," Hermione said in a polite exchange of introductions.

Harry was the first to marshal his bewildered expression. It took an elbow in the ribs from Hermione for Ron to close his mouth.

"Um, what… Er are those sunglasses?" he was squinting at her, tilting his head slightly.

"Oh no, they are my Googlehoffs. You know, star crests," Luna replied, glancing up into the murky recesses of the arch far overhead.

Ron and Harry followed her gaze and then exchanged a look of utter confusion.

Hermione cleared her throat and the boys' abandoned the star crests, though Ron looked like he had been ready to ask another question.

"He's a git, that Malfoy, that's what," he said bitterly instead, resuming the conversation they had been having.

"Best ignore him, Harry. You don't want to get in trouble," Hermione said with a certain degree of primness.

Luna could tell right away that this advice was already being disgarded by Ron and Harry, who exchanged another look Hermione had not caught. One which clearly showed their agreement that she was a girl and had no idea of what she was talking about.

"Uh, yea, yea, sure Hermione. Right enough," Ron said suddenly, drawing a puzzled look from Harry.

"The last thing we want to do is get ourselves into any trouble or anything," Ron continued, talking very quickly now.

The three of them seemed to grow awkward suddenly and more to put them at their ease than anything Luna nodded at the little jar that hung suspended between them. Within burned an iridescent blue flame, floating in the empty jar and radiating a nice, warm glow.

"That's lovely. Did you conjure it?" she looked up at Harry who shook his head and pushed his rounded glasses further onto his nose with a nudge of his finger.

"I did actually. I read about it in our Charms textbook," Hermione said.

"Oh, how clever. Professor Flitwick showed us but it is awfully difficult," Luna said appreciatively.

Hermione looked rather pleased at this but Ron's expression was turning to dismay as a shadow lengthened from behind them.

He had turned around just in time to see the approach of Professor Snape who was standing almost over them, his hands clasped behind his back, the look on his face cool but slightly suspicious.

"And what are four First Years doing in the shade on a day like this?" a brow arched as he looked down at them, his eyes gliding from one to the other. They lingered a millisecond longer on Luna but his expression did not change.

Luna had moved a fraction so the jar was hidden from his view behind her back. She looked up into his face, looking admittedly rather disconcerting through the lens of the Googlehoffs.

"We were talking about Charms, Sir. I was just going to ask if everyone in Gryffindor got the homework done for Professor Flitwick," Luna supplied.

"Well, you would all do better to get yourselves to the library if homework is on your minds. Hanging around like this, people will think you are up to something," he said.

His eyes had landed like flint on Harry, who met the stare with an easy look of his own. Snape held Harry's gaze a little longer, a strange but silent exchange that none of them understood one bit. Had he seen the flame before Luna had managed to hide it?

But, apparently satisfied that no mischief was afoot, Snape lifted his head, turned on his heel in a graceful arch and moved back in the direction he had came, his footsteps tapping out a rapid rhythm against the stone flags.

Hermione looked at Luna gratefully.

"Thanks," she said, her eyes warming.

"I'm not sure if we are meant to do magic outside of the castle."

"Neither am I. Best not learn the hard way, my dad always says," Luna returned mildly.

It appeared she had said the right thing and the self consciousness that had hung between them melted.

"Is it true the Gray Lady is in hiding because Peeves pinched her handkerchief?" Ron asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oh Ronald! Stuff and nonsense! A ghost can't have a handkerchief stolen!" Hermione said with an air of supreme confidance.

Luna laughed out loud.

"I'm not sure but what we heard is that she is hiding because of a rumour he wants to kiss her," Luna went on and suddenly the four of them were giggling and it was perfectly ordinary and unremarkable and Luna thought it was wonderful.

Somehow, it was like she had passed some sort of test, one that she did not even know she was taking. Yet, it had changed things and she was no longer Luna the outsider, she was Luna, who had friends. This was magic, the kind they didn't teach in classes, the kind that changed lives. Hogwarts had already begun to teach Luna things she only now realised she had been so hungry to learn.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

 **DISCLAIMER - None of these delightful characters are mine, all belong to JK Rowling.**

The feel good effect carried Luna right through the evening until it was time to join her guardian in his private quarters for supper. She was delighted to have the opportunity at last to tell him the myriad things that had made her first days at Hogwarts so utterly memorable and so very special. In fact, she talked right through the first course of steaming bowls of soup and fluffy white rolls, served by an aged house elf named Florrie.

If Severus noticed the name of Neville Longbottom coming up rather frequently in Luna's conversation, he chose to ignore it. Likewise, he made no comment on Luna's choice of new friends, among them Harry Potter. Instead, he bestowed a look of approval on the child when he finally managed to get an opening in the excited chat she was having with him. Florrie had brought mouthwatering platters of buttery peas, golden carrots, crisp baked potatoes and two large and aromatic steaks.

"Professor Flitwick speaks very highly of your performance in Charms, Luna. And by his telling, you have made yourself quite at home in Ravenclaw," he said.

She beamed happily.

"Oh yes. I love it there. We are looking forward to Quiddich starting. Some Third Years told us that the after match parties are legend! And when Ravenclaw win, they are out of this world, especially when we beat Slyth… when we beat the strong teams," Luna became very interested in her food as she realised what she was saying.

Snape pursed his lips.

"Indeed. Be warned, little Miss Lovegood, the Quiddich Cup is very much in Slytherin's sights. I wouldn't like to bet my dessert course on Ravenclaw denying us, if I were you," his black eyes twinkled at her.

"Do you go to the matches then?"

"Oh yes. I find that a bit of moral support from the Head of House spurs my Slytherins to greater things," he intoned silkily.

It was an evening that Luna thoroughly enjoyed. She was experiencing a truly affirming sense of belonging that had started to grow within her in the days since coming here. She was making friends, she laughed often and she felt within herself a confidance that came with succeeding.

To top it all, she had a haven to look to with the Professor. He was genuinely interested in what she was doing and how she was getting on. It was not the same as having her dad back but it was a good and safe feeling just the same.

After dinner, they fell into a familiar routine, settling in to his study, where he was soon immersed in correcting a pile of Second Year homework and she lost herself in one of her books. To Luna, it felt like a return to the days when she had first come to live with him. Now, though, her life was so much fuller. She was not leaving something, as she had then. The loss, the questions, the threat she could feel, even if she could not name it. This time, she was moving towards something. She was on her way to being a witch, to growing up, she was no longer alone.

"Luna, love. It's late."

The Professor's voice called her back from a warm and very pleasant nothingness and Luna opened her eyes, saw the fire had burned to a reddened ash. She reaslised that she must have dozed off on the couch. Severus was stooped over her, his face kind.

"I didn't realise the time. It's too late to return to your dorm now. Your bed is made up. I suggest you take that sleepy head of yours off to it," he said.

Luna picked up her book, which had fallen to the floor, still opened to the page she had been reading. Following the Professor's advice, she considered that as ends to a really good week could go, this one was among the finest.

Two days later, Luna was racing from the Ravenclaw dorm to her first flying lesson. She was late, she'd been delayed in her last lesson, Defence Against the Dark Arts. Their teacher, Professor Quirrell, a man who always appeared overwhelmed with nerves and unspoken fears wore a strange turban and spoke in a stuttering stream, even when he spoke to students on a one to one basis.

Ravenclaw and Slytherin were paired for the Dark Arts lessons. The Malfoy boy spent most of the lesson nudging his elbow into the ribs of the large, block shaped boy beside him and sniggering whenever Professor Quirrell's back was turned. Luna wasn't sure whether she or the Professor was the cause of his amusement. Certainly, Draco was unsparing in the snide remarks he made on the lesson, flustering the already skittish teacher even more.

"My father said that the Hogwarts purse was getting light. But even he didn't know it had come to this! Where did Dumbledore get this guy, the desperate teachers order book?" Malfoy spoke in an undertone, loud enough for Quirrell to catch as he went past the Slytherin bench. His companion, the boy named Goyle chuckled maliciously.

Professor Quirrell was wringing his hands by the time he got back to the top of the classroom. In a stammering voice that was almost a whisper, he began to tell them about the potent effects of smoking lumpweed when faced with will o' the wisps, tricksy little creatures renowned for leading travellers astray.

"What are you looking at, Lovegood?" Malfoy eyed her coldly.

Luna blinked and returned his stare.

"Not much, really. I was just wondering if you intended for your lumpweed to scorch the sleeve of your robe," Luna replied and Malfoy's icy gaze fell to his arm at once.

His pale face took on a shading of pinks across his cheekbones as he pointed his wand at his smouldering robes. There was a laser of white light, a hissing sound and the thin drifts of smoke faded from the black cloth.

"Think you're so clever do you? You'd be in a home for the dotty if Dumbledore hadn't foisted you on Snape. Don't get too comfortable, you'll probably end up there anyway!" Malfoy hissed at her .

"Have a care for yourself, Malfoy. I wonder where Snape will send you if he hears you've been disrupting lessons and costing Slytherin valuable points!" Emily Evans, one of Luna's dorm mates spoke beside her.

Malfoy's lips curled in a sneer but seeing Quirrell eyeing them warily, he reluctantly turned back to his lumpweed.

"He's a dreadful show off, jealous that you have got such a lovely stream of perfect blue smoke going from your lumpweed," Emily said quietly, making Luna smile heartily at the compliment.

When the lesson ended, Luna still felt bad for poor Quirrell, who was looking about at the unsmoked sample of the herb that lay across the surface of his desk, as though putting it away was a treacherous task. He produced his wand, dropped it, bent to see where it had fallen and then straightened quickly, readjusting the turban.

"Miss Lovegood, per.. per.. perhaps you c…c…could spare a moment to hel…help here" he called as Luna made her way to the door, one of the last to file out.

"Certainly, Professor," Luna said cheerfully, setting to the task of replacing the lumpweed into the creel shaped baskets it had come in.

It hadn't taken her long but it meant that she was behind everyone else as she raced to her dorm to stow her bag before going out onto the lawn, where Madame Hooch had arranged the flying lessson.

As Luna jogged down the staircase from the dorm into the vacant Ravenclaw common room, a vague popped had her slowing even as she had almost reached the door. She glanced back over her shoulder, then came to a complete halt at the sight before her eyes.

A house elf half knelt, half crouched on the blue and silver carpet. She emitted a low, keening sound that was barely audible but very distressing for all that. Luna turned back and walked slowly toward the creature, frowning as slow recognition filtered. The elf raised her wrinkled face, her large, luminous eyes filled with tears.

"Oh Miss, I is so glad you is alive. You can't know how I is been worried," she sobbed.

With no small degree of trepidation, Luna realised this was the same elf she had met in Diagon Alley that day last summer and her first instinct was to turn and flee the common room as fast as her feet would carry her. Yet she found herself edging closer to the creature instead of running in the other direction as a strong part of herself urged.

"I never is meaning you harm, Miss. Never," the elf's voiced was hoarse, the ragged sobs rasping in her throat.

Luna's misgivings were suspended as she felt the waves of upset radiating from the little creature. She frowned and tried to think of something to ease the torrent of anguish.

"I am alright. There's no need to cry about it," she said, leaning over to put herself more on a level with the little elf.

Instead of causing the tears to abate, Luna's words dragged an ear shattering wail from the elf, who now dropped to her knees and began pounding her head against the floor.

Alarmed, Luna reached out and laid a hand on a thin and quaking shoulder, he egsture automatic, all thought of danger to herself evaporating in the face of such abject misery.

"I don't bear any grudge about it," Luna said, more yelps of agony emitting from the writhing elf.

"You is too good, too good to be talking like this!" the elf half choked.

"What is your name? And you can call me Luna," Luna tried again, thinking to get a conversation going, move away from talk about the last time they had met. The creature was clearly distraught about that.

This time, the elf stretched full flat on the carpet and clasped her ears in her knobbly fingers and yanked them in what had to be a most painful way.

"You is talking to me like is the same as you….. Oh Miss, you is too kind and I is wretched!" she cried, her voice muffled by the carpet.

"You haven't come to try to poison me again, have you?" Luna asked, not sure if the elf could hear her over the din she was making.

"Noooo! Oh Miss, please don't be thinking of me as a bad elf, I isn't. I says it again, I don't mean you no harm," she protested.

"I is here to save you! And my poor master, he is in such terrible danger. I is wanting only to stop …." the gasping, tear sodden words petered out, replaced by a heart rending cry and the elf was suddenly hitting herself about the head with a large block of timber that lay in a wicker basket before the fireplace.

"Never… speak… ill of … family… Oh what is I coming to?" the creature's eyes were glazed before Luna managed to wrestle the wood from her hand.

"What do you mean? What danger?" Luna was regretting not raising an alert now.

"He is already here. But Miss must not be hurt! I is owing her that! The cloak, it belongs to the boy who is living. He will take it but if Miss is hiding it, Miss will save him and save herself. He can't get it but he is here, he is here!" the hysterical ramble faded to a wheeze as the elf collapsed on the floor, overwhelmed and possibly dazed from the blows she had dealt herself with the block of wood.

Luna had no idea what she was talking about, she was utterly lost and desperately shaken by the desperation convulsing the elf.

Then, she heard a crack as the porthole into the common room opened. Luna looked around at the noise, in time to see a fourth year boy hop across the threshold.

When she looked back at the ground beside her, there was nothing there, the aged creature had vanished.

The boy looked at her curiously but then gave her a quick nod as he moved to settle into one of the empty armchairs. Seeing Luna Lovegood look lost and at sea was nothing new and he was already getting one with his own business.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

 **DISCLAIMER - None of these delightful characters are mine, all belong to JK Rowling.**

The flying lesson should have been exhilarating, should have been the highlight of the day. Indeed for most of Luna's class, it was, despite the slightly temperamental school brooms they were using. First Years were not allowed their own brooms and the school owned ones lent to them were in varying conditions of shabbiness. Some had a few meagre bristles at their end, looking a little like an animal shedding its coat. Others had dull handles, the wood scratched and darkened from years of use.

For all that, they worked mostly very well, though the students who had experience of flying at home found them slow. Madame Hooch gave concise, confidant instructions and soon, everyone had mounted their brooms in the prescribed way, rather than the more casual fashion some had grown accustomed to at home. The first rise into the air brought delighted expressions to all of their faces, though muggles borns were looking a little apprehensive as they felt the ground fall away.

Throughout it all, Luna was barely aware of what was happening. The unexpected arrival of the elf had thrown up so many questions and though the creature's warning were incoherent and disjointed, Luna could not dismiss it as rubbish. She had said there was danger but from what and where? And who was the master she spoke of again and again? Did she mean Mr. Crouch? But he was already here, according to the elf and Luna was fairly certain Mr. Crouch was not at Hogwarts, the Professor would know. And why would he want to tak someone else's cloak?

Over and over the questions circled in Luna's mind, never finding an answer, until she felt dizzier than the girl whose broom had gone into a tailspin and dropped her to the ground after twelve 360 degree full turns. She should talk to Severus, she knew it but she needed to find the right words. He would be angry with the elf and goodness knew, the creature was remorseful enough without the Potions Master raining his ire upon her.

Luna's introspection lasted through the evening meal in the Great Hall and into the following day, when Neville met up with her in Herbology.

"Should you be pruning that sneezle plant with your wand facing the wrong way around?" Neville's question roused Luna from thoughts that continued to yield more confusion than clarity.

"Oh! Maybe not! I do seem to have made some progress with Seamus Finnegan's sneezle, though!" Luna looked around to see the bench behind strewn with the tell tale pink of the sneezle leaf.

"You did seem to have a knack with the Green Star," Neville looked admiringly out onto the patch of garden beyond the greenhouses where their lessons were held. Luna's plant was now resident there, a burgeoning explosion of green from which small green leaves arched skywards every now and then, in the manner of tiny shooting stars.

"Yes, it does seem to be growing rather well. Professor Sprout says that it will have its own constellations by this time next year," Luna replied.

"Unlike my sneezle, I'm afraid I haven't done it much good at all!" Luna looked down at the vibrantly coloured branches which were now impressively tangled. The plant was one of a family of healing herbs and was known for two things, sap which could restore lost memories and its rapid growth, which if unchecked could over run a room in minutes.

Professor Sprout bustled up to the bench and with a flick of her wand had Luna's sneezle pruned down to a knobbly seedling.

"You need to be quick, my dear. Quick and firm," she advised.

"Professor Snape won't be best pleased if we waste this crop. He's been waiting for at least a dozen vials of the sap to replenish his stocks. Perhaps you could tell him I'll have that and more by the end of next week, Miss Lovegood?" with a satisfied nod of her curly head, the portly little witch moved on to the next bench.

Even the mention of the Potions Master's name as enough to make Neville blanch.

"I don't think I'd like to see Professor Snape when he isn't pleased. He's scary enough when he's in a good mood!" he whispered.

Luna rolled her eyes at him.

"Neville you've got no reason to be scared of him. You are very clever. If you cold stop being so nervous in Potions and show him that, I bet he'd be rather impressed," she said.

As soon as Luna said the words, she felt a bit of a hypocrite. She still hadn't told Severus of the second appearance of the elf. With a twinge of guilt, she recalled that he had exacted a promise from her that she would no longer keep secrets from him, at least not secrets relating to her safety. She was never going to make sense of anything the creature had said to her on her own. There was nothing for it, after the lessson, she would find him and tell him and just have to trust that he would not make things even worse for the miserable creature.

He wasn't in the Potions classroom when she went looking but he was in his quarters, pulling on his cloak and clearly in a hurry.

"Luna. I wasn't expecting you! I will be out for a while but stay, help yourself to some supper, if you like. I don't know how long I will be," he said, brushing past her on his way to the door.

"Severus. I have to tell you something. It's important. Something happened after Darks Arts lesson yesterday," she said and he was suddenly still, the hurry he was in forgotten.

He had pulled the door open. Slowly, he pushed it shut and came to stand in front of her.

"Quirrell's lesson?" his face was impassive, calm. One black brow lifted, the only indication of his attention to this information.

"That is interesting. You see, I was just on my way to see the very same man," there was a glint within the coal black of his eyes.

A wave of his hand in the direction of the couch was his invitation to her to take a seat but Luna stayed on her feet and he was intrigued to note that she avoided looking at him.

Luna could see the words as though they were written on the inside of her eyelids. She could hear them in her own voice as though she had actually spoken them. Yet saying them was proving quite difficult. She drew in a deep breath, clasped her fingers in front of her. Studied the hem of his robes.

"You see I had a flying lesson after the Dark Arts class but Professor Quirrell asked me to stay and help him clear away. So I was running late and when I got to the Ravenclaw common room, there was no one else there. Well, not at first," Luna paused and sucked in another breath. Let it go.

"There is a but coming, is there not? So on with it, Luna," she glanced at him and could see he wasn't being impatient. She had his fullest attention.

"I am sure her intentions were good and Severus, she was so terribly upset. You didn't see her," she was speaking very fast now, so fast he wondered if he had missed a sentence.

"Who?" he frowned.

"She was in a frightful state. I couldn't leave her like that but I couldn't seem to help much. And I couldn't understand a word of what she told me and that is why I thought I'd better come and tell you but I don't want to make trouble for her, not as I am quite certain she meant well," Luna looked up at him at last, her eyes wide and round, making an appeal but he merely looked confused.

"Luna, I am lost. Tell me what? Is this about a classmate? A friend of yours? Who are you talking about? Slow down now and start at the beginning, like a good girl."

"Before I went out to the flying lesson, in the common room, the elf came to talk to me. The same one I met outside Fortesque's shop," she spoke so softly, he had to dip his head to hear.

Her eyes were trained on the rug, blonde hair falling untidily to hide her face. She heard him take a breath. Then his hands were on her shoulders, his grip fierce.

"What?"

He gave her a shake, sharp enough to make her aware of the power a grown up can have, firm enough to remind her that he could and would use it.

"And you are only telling me this now? Why didn't you come to me straight away?"

He didn't shout, yet the room was suddenly radiating with his voice.

"I just felt so sorry for her. I couldn't bear to get her into trouble. She had a message but I couldn't understand it," Luna looked into his face, hoping he'd believe her.

He let go of her, paced to the fireplace, circled back towards her. Luna held her ground, though she felt like putting a bit of distance between herself and her guardian.

"And you felt this message was worth risking your life to hear it? Ever hear of the fate that befell the curious cat, young lady?" he shot her a gaze heavy with the embers of a temper on a fast burn.

"I wasn't only curious. The creature was terribly distressed. I couldn't just leave her. I knew she wasn't going to hurt me," Luna sat down at last, plopping onto the edge of the couch, clasping her hands on her lap.

"So you keep saying. It's a confidant assertion given the strong evidence to the contrary," he narrowed his eyes at her.

"She came to warn me, Severus. I did understand that much," Luna said.

"Warn you of what? What precisely did she say?" he rapped out the question but Luna heard the concern and saw the worry flare in his eyes.

"She said that there was danger. That her master was at risk and he was already here. But if I hid a cloak I would save both of us," Luna said, her brow furrowing as she tried to recall the elf's words from her hysterical stream.

Snape crossed his arms, his face darkened by a ferocious scowl.

"That does not make sense!" he growled.

"I know," Luna agreed.

"Was that it? That's everything she had to say?"

"Yes. She apologised a lot for what happened in Diagon Alley but that was all," Luna said and then was sorry she added that as the Professor's expression clouded ominously at the reminder of her brush with the elf last summer.

"She can't be Mr. Crouch's house elf, can she, Severus? She said her master was here but he isn't," Luna pondered.

"No. He isn't," he had a far away look on his face and then his eyes met Luna's once more, focused and serious.

"You encountered the creature after the Dark Arts lesson? And you were alone only because Quirrell delayed you?" she gave him a nod.

"A man much on my mind this evening, indeed," he said.

"Severus. The elf said something about a boy who is living when she talked about the cloak. I remember now."

He was silent but was looking at her strangely.

"I see," he said at last and Luna felt that this had meant something to him but he did not explain.

Then, he was giving her a long look, one that was not approving. Luna felt his censure, it began to prickle on her skin like an allergen. He rose his hand and crooked his index finger at her, waiting in perfect stillness until she was standing in front of him. Luna would not have thought to disobey. All the time his eyes stayed on her, making her feel quite guilty, though he had not said one word. Luna did not want meet those unforgiving eyes. She looked at a point in the far distance beyond his shoulder even as her feet carried her to him.

"None of that. Look here and listen very carefully, Miss Lovegood," he said firmly.

Luna looked up, met his eyes and wished that she was not the cause of the annoyance she found there.

"You should have told me this yesterday. And do you know what is troubling about it?" the look he was giving her seemed to ignite.

Luna felt the answering heat in her neck, felt it rise to her face.

"No," she confessed, though she figured that there were a few likely possibilities.

"You know that. You knew it then, you know it now. That is why you are looking very much like you kicked a puppy or pulled the wings off a butterfly! You are a very clever girl and it does not become a clever girl to do very stupid things!"

Luna wondered how it was he could be so deafening without raising his voice.

"Elves have very old magic of their own. Yet that one managed to get in to this school without anyone knowing takes some doing. Covering up for it serves no purpose other than possibly a very dangerous one!" he pressed.

Luna opened her mouth, there was so much she wanted to say but his gaze burned hotter and her voice died in her throat.

"Until we find out what the purpose of this visit was, you are not to return to the Ravenclaw dorm. You will move back in here."

"Severus, her purpose was not dangerous!" Luna cried out but he rose a silencing hand.

"Enough of this, Luna. Enough! Do you think we are having a discussion? Let me clear. You are to have no further contact with that elf. None. You will stay here until I am satisfied that it is safe for you to be elsewhere!"

Now, his voice had risen, his tone sharp and Luna knew better than to try to argue. Still, she felt unhappiness burn. He was talking to her like she was a helpless child. It made her feel angry and she could not keep this from her face.

"You can sulk about it, you can curse me to infinity if you like but that is how it will be!" there was no doubting his resolve on that.

"I didn't seek the elf! She came to me. It's not like I am going to go looking for her!" she protested, stung at the unfairness of his condemnation.

"I believe you. That is not the point here. Keeping you safe, that is the first priority for me," he shot back.

"You will attend lessons and meals as usual for the rest of the week but Saturday, you will remain here and you will spend the day in your room," he continued.

Luna blinked, her expression wounded.

"I'm being punished?" she looked at him as though he had stopped the world from turning.

He held her gaze steadily, his eyes heated with anger.

"Yes. Something that you might recall the next time that soft heart of yours tries to rule your head!" he stepped past her and crossed the room to the door.

"As I said, I have to go out. You will be in bed by the time I return."

The door snapped shut behind him, the air in the room stirred, the bad feelings did not dissipate.

Luna wondered if stamping her foot on the ground would do anything to make her feel better, decided that it would not and instead went and lowered herself onto the couch.

He had shouted at her and she had not liked it. He was angry at her and she did not like that either. She had thought so much of shielding the house elf from his temper but he was cross with her and she had not thought how that would feel. To make it worse, she knew it was her own fault and so, unpleasant though it was, she had to admit that he had been right. She could sulk or rage at him but she knew she only had herself to blame for her plight.

She stayed seated where she was until the fire had burned to a glowing ash. The Professor had not returned and when at last her eyes were as heavy as her heart, Luna got to her feet and went to her bedroom. She climbed beneath the duvet, feeling the familiar softness surround her. Yet it felt as though she had been sent to some distant, alien land.

In the morning, he was at the table in the kitchen and it was laid for breakfast. They exchanged a morning greeting, he read his copy of The Wizarding Times and Luna concentrated on her bowl of cereal as though it was the most distracting thing in the room.

She finished and stood, lifting her empty bowl to the sink. He did not look up from his paper. At the door she stopped, looked back at him.

"Severus?"

Black eyes flicked above the top of the paper.

"I'm sorry."

She could add nothing to that and so she took her eyes from his, and turned to retrace her steps to her bedroom.

"I am not," he spoke and her feet seemed glued to the floor.

"You think I am being hard on you, I know that. But I will do what I think is best. Keeping you safe is the only thing I am interested in."

His voice was quiet but acted as more of a reprimand to her than anything he had said the night before.

"I will be perfectly safe staying in Ravenclaw," she said.

"That is not up for discussion, my girl," his tone was colder than deep winter.

"I am so tired of feeling scared and pretending I'm not. But I know that somehow, I have to stay me," she said.

He lowered the paper and she saw surprise glance across his face.

"That's a very grown up thing to say. And it is exactly true," he said pensively.

"You have kindness in you I will never be able to understand, Luna. I admire you for that. I can't be like you but I do not want to change it," his face was very serious.

"It takes a fair bit of courage to stay true to yourself when so much falls into chaos. And it takes a lot of courage to trust someone else to respect that. You did the right thing telling me about the house elf. But I am not happy at all that you stood before danger of any kind, no matter how generous your motives."

"I was never not going to tell you about the elf coming to see me. And I'm getting good at spotting danger," Luna insisted.

"Understand that is my job. And to make sure you do, you are grounded on Saturday. Sparing me at least a day when I won't have a heart attack worrying about you!"

Luna dropped her gaze. He had done a fine job of cranking up the guilt she was already carrying.

She turned and continued to her room. While she had slept, her things had been brought from the Ravenclaw dorms. The Professor meant what he said. He was not about to change his mind, then. So she went to pack her bag for the day ahead. It wasn't starting on a truce exactly. She had been honest with the Professor but she knew he had not told her everything he knew about what was going on.

Instead, he was treating her like a child, one who needed protecting. She was the one at the centre of this mess, she had survived so far. Could he give her no credit for that?

This imposed stay with her guardian reminded Luna of those first days. He was uncompromising and distant and Luna was reserved and polite. And once again, she felt the pull from her life, this time from the new independence she had been building, her new friends.

"Aren't you ever coming back to Ravenclaw?" Gertrude asked as the evening meal was drawing to a close in the Great Hall.

Luna looked up from her pudding and nodded.

"Of course! I am Ravenclaw. I'm just staying with Sev.. Professor Snape for a little while, that's all," Luna said.

"How come? Is it about your Dad?" Gertrude asked, her blue eyes wide and interested but kind.

Luna was momentarily nonplussed. Most of the other students here knew her dad was missing, knew the fearsome Head of Slytherin was her guardian but Luna had stayed true to her word that she would keep the details of the summer quiet.

Few really asked any questions of her, partly as her dad had a reputation for eccentricity and they supposed this was an extension of it and partly because Professor Snape terrified the socks off most of them.

"Um no. I haven't been doing all that well at Potions. Professor Snape says I am likely to fail if I don't get on track. So he's helping me after class. It's just easier to stay in his quarters until the tutorials are over," Luna said with a shrug.

She did not like lying and Gertrude looked at her with a doubtful expression. The story was the best Luna could think of on the spur of the moment.

Then, her friend gave her hand a sympathetic pat.

"That has to be a real down side of being in the charge of Professor Snape! He can't be all that understanding! It must be kind of, well, scary," Gertrude actually shuddered as she thought of having Snape as a guardian.

"He is strict. But he means well," Luna said but Gertrude was casting surreptitious glances at the teachers' table as though checking that Snape wasn't breathing fire in their direction.

Luna felt weighted down as she stood to leave the Great Hall. Lies, deceit, secrets, all invisible, all a burden that was very hard to carry. Luna wanted nothing more than to set it down and at that moment, she wished her for her father with such yearning, her heart actually ached.

Tomorrow was Saturday and the punishment the Professor had set her still loomed ahead. It made her feel so lonely to be at this remove from her guardian. That was the real chastisement. Nothing he did could make her feel worse. Luna trudged along the corridor, her eyes trained on the stony ground, her dreary thoughts swimming in her mind like an entire school of shuttlers.

When she reached the Professor's rooms, he wasn't there. She went and prowled around the library, skimming her fingers over the spines of the books he had bought her, choosing none. There were too many words in her head already, she could not read another.

Finally, the restless energy subsided and she settled into the couch, pulling her feet up so she was sitting cross-legged. She was plaiting her hair when she heard the door open and looked up to see her guardian enter quietly. He closed the door almost silently behind him and he moved towards his bedroom, not looking into the living room at all.

At first, Luna felt her spirits sink lower than she believed possible thinking that he did not wish to pass even a cursory greeting with her. Then, she realised something wasn't quite right, he was walking differently, slower. The man was graceful when he moved, this time, he appeared to be wading through honey.

He was limping, Luna realised with an unwelcome start. Her heart suddenly seemed to jump to her throat, causing her chest to ache and bringing her rapidly to her feet.

"You are hurt!" she was moving across the floor to him, every single thought forgotten but that he was injured and clearly in pain.

He turned, his face registering surprise.

"I thought you were in bed!" he said.

"What happened?" she looked up at him, stilled by the pallor of his skin, the lines that were more pronounced around his eyes.

"I am fine, child," he said but she heard the strain in his voice, knew he was hurting.

With only instinct to direct her, Luna moved to him, hefting his arm over her shoulders.

"Severus, think you ought to sit down," she said, leading him to the couch she had just vacated.

"Don't fuss. I had a bit of a mishap, that's all," he said, grimacing as he pulled his left pants leg up, revealing a vicious wound above his ankle.

Luna's eyes widened and she sucked in a shocked breath seeing the ragged puncture marks, from which blood poured in dark rivulets.

"What got you? Surely not yezzirs? Oh Severus! Maybe I should fetch Madame Pomfrey?" Luna stood up, looking uncertainly and worriedly at her guardian.

"No! No. Luna, I had a brush in with one of Hagrid's accursed pets, that's what. I don't need Madame Pomfrey. But if you could fetch the vial of Dittany from my office, that will be sufficient," he said, taking her hand in his and squeezing it.

The child looked shell shocked. It would be a mercy if she wasn't fainting herself in a minute, he thought. He could have accioed the healing mixture in a flash but his ward looked very much in need of having something to do. Right enough, she had gone in the blink of an eye and returned just as fast bearing the green crystal bottle.

She administered the dittany carefully, with surgical precision, just as she had watched him do when tending to her hands once before. He closed his eyes as the magical elixir soothed and rejoined the raw and split skin.

Luna watched as wounds closed and the bleeding slowly eased. It was a bite, a deep and brutal assault that had rendered his flesh and had to be excruciating. Perhaps she should fetch him something strong to drink, her dad sometimes dipped into a bottle of fire whiskey if he was hurt. Then again, he should be lying down, give the dittany a chance to work well.

"Stop hovering over me like a nervous matron! I will live. I might even dance again one day," a deep growl broke into her thoughts but he was still leaning back against the cushions of the couch, lids still lowered over his eyes.

"I didn't know you danced!"

It was the first thought that came into her mind. The idea was rather jolting.

He made a sound that might have been a chuckle.

"I was being facetious. Now you should be in bed. Off you go, little Miss Lovegood. Scoot."

She reluctantly moved towards the door. She glanced back once, biting her lip when she saw that his brow was creased, a fine sheen of sweat glistening on his face. He was in more pain than he was letting on but she was not fooled. That injury to his leg had gone almost to the bone.

"Luna."

The soft use of her name stopped her at the door. Once again, she looked back at him. He had sat forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

"Thank you."

He looked up, black eyes peering at her intently from beneath the fall of his hair.

In two words he had loosened the band of isolation that had seized Luna in a smothering hold over the past few days.

"You are welcome," Luna said somberly.

"We need to talk about things. There will be time tomorrow, I will make sure of it. Anything you want to ask me, I will do my best to answer," he said.

The clouds of loneliness subsided even further. Luna gave him a small smile from the door.

"Goodnight," she said and he gave a single nod.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

 **DISCLAIMER - None of these delightful characters are mine, all belong to JK Rowling.**

Two requests for drinks. Four trips to the bathroom. One mouse sighting. With lunch still an hour away, Severus wondered what would serve as Luna's next diversion from being grounded. No outright appeal to have the punishment withdrawn, no cajoling him, no resentful defiance. Rebellion as practised by his ward was a far more subtle art, he thought with an upward curve of his lip.

But the hour passed quietly and when he went to call her for lunch, he was more than a little curious to see what she had found to absorb her so completely. He tapped lightly on the closed door of her bedroom, heard her call and stepped over the threshold to see her sitting on her bed, looking up at him as though she had been waiting for his knock.

"It's time for lunch. Are you hungry?"  
She didn't reply but she held her hand out, fingers open. He stepped towards her and looked down to see a small metal object lying on her palm. It was a symbol and he recognised it at once, every wizard would have. It was the Deathly Hallows, the sign combining three of the magical world's most powerful objects.

"It's dad's. He always wears it. Well, he did until he went away, that is," she said.

"I know you miss him, Luna. I see that you try to be brave about it but it is not weakness to find it hard without him," he said.

Luna looked up into his face, finding his expression was firmly set but his eyes were sympathetic.

"Yes, that is true," she gave a dip of her head.

Luna stood and gave the Hallows symbol to him.

"I've had it since that day but looking at it now made me think. The cloak, the one death gave the third brother, it reminded me of that message. The elf thinks the cloak is at Hogwarts," she said.

The black eyes, which has been gazing benevolently at her flared and the Professor's expression turned to something like admiration.

"And she is right," he said, closing the door and going to sit on the chair by her bed.

Luna was gob smacked. The cloak was a legend, how was this even possible?

"Or at least about a cloak of invisibility. It is in the care of the Headmaster at the moment. But it belongs to a student at the school, a friend of yours, as it happens," his eyes were trained on her.

"Harry Potter, The Boy…"

"Who Lived," Luna finished the sentence, her mind catching up. A boy who was living, the elf had said but this was what she had meant.

"You already knew this," she looked at her guardian, caught his nod.

"It feels like there are rabbles just buzzing in my head. I don't understand any of this at all," Luna lifted her hands to her head as if there really were creatures fluttering within that she might make still.

"This is not for anyone else's ears, Luna, certainly not those of the Potter boy. Remember I told you that it is likely Mrs. Crouch had an accomplice or was acting with someone else? As far as I can make out this person has a great interest in Harry Potter. They are interested enough to seek the prophesy, interested enough to know about the existence of a cloak that once belonged to his father," Severus said.

"Where does Professor Quirrell fit in? Is he the one who was helping Mrs. Crouch?" she asked.

"Luna, that perception is an impressive quality. I would like it somewhat better if you would use it to keep that clever little head of yours away from trouble," he rose a sleek eyebrow at her.

"The answer to your question is that I don't know. But yes, I do think he has an involvement."

"The more we find out, the more confusing it gets," she sighed.

"One thing I do know is that the elf does or did belong to the Crouch family. I paid a visit to Crouch himself and he admitted that the creature has vanished, a most unusual thing for a house elf to do. Should it try to contact you again…." he glared warningly at her but Luna didn't need the caution.

"I won't hang about, Severus. I promise," she said.

"I believe you, Miss Lovegood," he inclined his head towards her.

"Come here to me now," he said and suddenly his voice was very serious.

Luna scrambled off the bed and went to him. Was he going to send her away? He looked just solemn enough to do it.

He placed his hands on her shoulders as she stood before him, still seated in her bedside chair. His eyes fixed on hers, dark and intent and Luna wished she could look away but it was like she was frozen.

"I meant it when I told you that I want only to protect you. I am very serious about that and you can rail against it if you wish but by the ancients, I will do what I have to. Even if it means a spell in your bad books," he glared at her.

"You aren't in my bad books," Luna said quickly.

"Or not why you think. You told me to trust what I know and I knew the elf wasn't going to hurt me but I still got in trouble," she said.

"I did tell you that. But you have a guardian for a reason, namely that you do not have to face dangerous situations on your own and no matter how little of threat you believed the creature posed, its appearance was not exactly routine. That is so, is it not?" he pressed.

Luna nodded, unable to deny the truth of that.

"I am not helpless, though," she murmured.

"Helpless? Of course you are not. There are many fully fledged witches and wizards who would be running to the hills if confronted by even half of what you have been dealing with these past months," he said, his tone clipped, impatient.

"Being brave is not a good enough reason to throw common sense out of the window! Don't test me, my girl!" he scolded.

Looking into his stern face, Luna should have felt apprehension. Instead, she felt rather foolish. She had resented being treated like a child, left out of his confidence.

Now she realised that it was she who had assumed he would not understand about the elf. She who had treated him as though he was had to be handled, rather than the other way around.

"I felt bad because I thought you were hiding things you didn't think I could deal with. That's why you were in my bad books, not because you grounded me," she admitted.

His eyes admonished her.

"I know, kettle calling the pot black," she confessed.

"Come eat. An afternoon back here thinking about that may just serve to do you some good!" he said, exasperated, rising to his feet.

She looked up at him, her eyes full concern.

"Your leg, how is it?" she asked.

"It's healing. Argus dressed it for me earlier," he said.

"Ooof. Poor you," she grimaced.

The caretaker was not the most sympathetic man Luna could think of, though she did rather like his cat. Mrs. Norris and Galahad were good friends, too.

"When you get cross you really turn your heart to stone, Luna," he murmured.

"You are being facetious again," she gave him a sideways glance full of reprimand.

"Not completely. But perhaps a touch. I apologise, love."

He turned and drew her against him, holding her in a loose but warm hug. Surprised, Luna leaned into him, feeling the last tendrils of her ill temper evaporate.

"Can we step forward, Severus? And leave what has been unpleasant behind?" she asked, her voice slightly muffled against his shirt.

"You are forgiven, if that is what you are asking," he said dryly.

"But still grounded for the rest of the day. I always mean what I say."

Then, he moved away from her and ushered her through the door first, the way she always found rather gentlemanly.

In his years as Head of Slytherin, Snape has issued many punishments that were harsher and quite a few that were less deserved and he had never given them a second thought. Yet that Saturday weighed on him like a wet blanket and he could not explain, even to himself why he felt so guilty. He knew all along this one would cause him trouble.

He eyed her over his paper the following morning as she tucked into the large duck egg she had boiled for herself. She was dipping thin toast slices into it after a long discussion with the house elf who served him his breakfast about why they were called soldiers. He wondered and not for the first time how it was that someone who looked no more substantial than a sunbeam had packed quite such a punch into his life.

Luna, for her part found that things may have improved between herself and the Professor but there was a growing atmosphere of apprehension in the castle. It was a week when whispers abounded, many, indeed most concerned with her guardian and none in his favour.

A growing cohort of Gryffindors believed that he had tried to kill Harry by hexing his broom at a Quiddich match. In fact, by the end of the week, really only the Slytherins and Luna showed no real misgivings about this, the Slytherins because they were rather pleased about it. Instances of Luna's belongings going missing, only to turn up in unlikely or even unpleasant places increased as the belief took hold and solidified into accepted fact among the Hogwarts students.

She had to chase Peeves up three flights of stairs to catch up with him so she could coax him to return her shoe laces. She and Neville, one of the few Gryffindors who was not treating her like the executioner's assistant, spent most of one lunch break searching out her Herbology homework, which in the end was to be found nestled in the unforgiving branches of a vampire shrub.

Neville jumped back as a vine lunged at him, sharp teeth bared and snapping rather viciously.

"Hullo there you two!" the hearty greeting had them looking up into the hairy face of the Gamekeeper.

"I wouldn't go messing about with that there bloodsucker! Takes no prisoners that one," Hagrid shook his bushy head as he eyed the shrub which now sat looking perfectly benign.

"Er no," Neville glared at the plant.

"I think it may have my parchment," Luna said seeing the yellowed and frayed edge of the sheet she had written her Herbology assignment on the previous night.

Unfazed, Hagrid rummaged in the seemingly countless pockets in his coat and produced a fat garlic bulb. Brandishing it before the plant, he reached forward and pulled Luna's homework free as the foliage shrank backwards.

"Tricky beggar. Once you know how to 'andle it, you're right as rain," Hagrid handed Luna the parchment with a cheery grin.

"Thank you," Luna smiled up at him.

She wondered which of his many creatures had bitten Severus but thought the better of asking, Hagrid was very sensitive about his animals and did not like to think that they were considered menaces by others.

"Professor Snape's leg is healing well. I expect he may have been cross but the worst is past, I'd say," Luna imparted the information with the aim of reassuring Hagrid.

The huge man shuffled his feet and looked around swiftly.

"Uh, that's good, Luna. Pleased to 'ear it," Hagrid suddenly appeared to be in a very great hurry and hastened away, looking uncomfortable.

Neville too was finding it hard to meet her eyes as they resumed their stroll across the grounds.

At first, Luna put this down to the sense of fright that the Master of Potions could yield on her friend, even if only through the mention of his name.

"There are some who think that Professor Snape was injured trying to steal something the Professor Dumbledore is keeping hidden in the castle," Neville blurted out the words, keeping up a purposeful stride across the stubby green grass.

"Steal?"

To Luna, this was an even more preposterous allegation against her guardian than the attempt to murder Harry. Violence was one thing, to lower himself to common thieving, well, that was as ridiculous as thinking Hagrid would perform his duties wearing ballet slippers.

She giggled helplessly to imagine it. Neville glanced at her, anxiously. He stopped walking so suddenly that Luna had gone several steps ahead of him before she realised. She retraced her steps.

"Sorry, Neville," she still had merriment dancing in her eyes until she saw the troubled expression on his face.

"Luna, are you sure that you are ok staying with him? I mean what if it's true? What if he did go after Harry? Maybe you should talk to Professor Flitwick? Or Professor Dumbledore himself?"

Neville's earnest face and genuine concern brought Luna up short. It wasn't very often people worried about her.

"Oh Neville, I am fine, honestly. Professor Snape isn't going to hurt me," Luna threaded her arm through Neville's.

She regretted very much that she could not tell her friend the things she knew, the things that would dispel for once and for all the sinister mutterings about Snape's integrity.

"But if I keep on being late for lessons, there is a good chance he won't be exactly singing my praises either," she said, making her tone light.

"If he brings you to harm, Luna, well, he'll answer to me!" Neville said with a vehemence that seemed to surprise even himself.

Luna had only ever read about heroes racing to the rescue to damsels caught in the clutches of cruel overlords. Neville's gesture was so sincere that it went well beyond anything she had ever read in her books. Immensely touched, Luna smiled at him.

"Thank you, Neville. That's rather good to know," she said. It took enormous courage for Neville to contemplate challenging the one person he feared the most. How could Luna bring herself to tell him that it was a misguided token of his friendship? She could not and so she simply enjoyed knowing that she had made such a brave and good hearted friend.

His was a friendship that Luna came to rely on more and more in the days that followed as students grew increasingly suspicious of Professor Snape and of her by extension. Yet, not all Gryffindors believed that she was in Snape's confidence when it came to his possibly murderous ideas.

As Luna queued with her classmates outside of Quirrell's Dark Arts classroom, Draco Malfoy sidled up alongside her. He wrinkled his nose as if he had smelled something distasteful. With a deft brush of his elbow, he knocked her books, her wand and the quill Severus had given her from her arms. They tumbled to the ground with a clatter.

"Loony's got butter fingers! Can't hold on to a thing. Not her books, not her parents!" he grinned heartlessly and Crabbe and Goyle snickered at his elbow.

Luna ignored the comment and bent down to pick up her things.

"Why don't you back off, Malfoy?" Harry Potter had turned the corner just in time to witness the ugly exchange.

"Yea. If anyone's parents could do with getting lost, it's yours and better if they take you with them!" Ron Weasley snarled at the blond boy.

Luna looked up to see Draco's face flush with anger but Ron had the height advantage and even with his two side kicks to back him, he was not about to push it right under the teachers' noses. Instead Malfoy inclined his head at Crabbe and Goyle.

"Come on. Let's leave the freaks' appreciation society to it!" he snarled going back to join the queue some distance down.

Harry hunkered down and began gathering Luna's books and parchment.

"Ignore him, Luna. He's an idiot," he said, shooting a poisonous look at where Malfoy lounged with his cronies.

He handed her back her things as they stood.

"Thanks Harry," she said.

"Luna, do you by any chance know the name Nicholas Flamel?" Ron asked, the question sounding random but Harry glanced at him, startled.

"Oh yes. My dad wrote a very interesting article about him once. He would have loved to meet him but Flamel is a bit of a hermit now," Luna responded and both boys stared at her round eyed.

The door of Quirrell's classroom opened and the line of students filed in. Luna made to join them but Ron held her back.

"Luna, can you maybe meet us later? Tell us a bit more about him. We.. Umm.. We don't read as much of The Quibbler as we probably ought to," he shrugged apologetically.

"Well, I don't know much but ok," Luna nodded.

"Harry's got Quiddich practice later. We can meet you after that?" Ron said eagerly,

Luna thought quickly. Severus would not agree to her taking any evening strolls around the grounds with the elf and her master still at large. Still, if she could help Ron and Harry with their interest in Flamel, maybe she could also prove to them that her guardian was not trying to send Harry to his doom.

"Yes. I can do that," she reached a decision, gave the boys a smile and trooped into the Dark Arts lesson.

By the time the evening meal was finishing, Luna had her excuse ready for her guardian and though she felt bad about it, she was resolved to meet Harry and Ron. For one thing, she really did think she could change their minds about the Professor and for another, it was nice having friends. It also felt rather exciting to have secret plans of her own, a little like an adventure that was hers alone.

"Professor Snape, would it be alright if I was a little late back to your quarters this evening? Gertrude is having difficulty with her Herbology homework and asked me to help," she approached him as he was about to walk from the staff table.

He looked down at her, his face serious but with no trace of suspicion.

"How late?"

"An hour or maybe a little more," she answered and this at least was true.

"No longer," he gave a quick nod.

And so, minutes later, Luna's feet were carrying her swiftly across the dewy grass towards the Quiddich pitch at the back of the castle. While still a little distance away, she could hear the sounds of the practice and every so often, a broom bearing a students climbed into vision as one of the Gryffindor team soared high in the game manoeuvres.

Luna took a place in the stands beside Ron and Hermione who were watching the training with casual interest.

"Professor Snape doesn't know you are here does he, Luna?" Hermione asked a little worriedly.

"Goodness, no. I don't think he'd approve! Best file this under Quibbler business," Luna replied as one of the Weasley twins somersaulted inches from her. She gave him a cheery wave and watched the game with mild curiosity.

"Quiddich was invented by goblins, you know. They played it with the skulls of past players who paid for losing with their lives," she explained to Ron and Hermione.

She didn't think they believed her, they exchanged a dubious look but Luna was fine with that, ancient Quiddich was not something very many people knew about, her father was practically alone in his well researched history of the magical game. Still, they did not voice their doubts, instead, Hermione produced a flask of butterbeer and conjured three goblets for them. Sipping the sweet, warm drink, sitting with them in the dusky stands was one of the nicest feelings Luna had known in a while. It made her feel free and she was almost giddy with the sensation.

"Flamel created a magical object powerful enough to defeat death?" Harry pushed his spectacles higher on his nose and regarded Luna with keen interest.

He had joined the other three in the stands and his broom lay at his feet, his hair was windswept from the fast action Quiddich moved he had practised for almost an hour. He frowned and shook his head.

"That sounds sort of far fetched."

"Never heard of anything like that. Even powerful magic can't stop someone dying," Ron said.

"There is one object. Ever hear of the Resurrection Stone?" Luna said.

The three others looked at each other, Harry with a blank expression.

"The Resurrection Stone is a fabled object, a famous children's story tells how one of three brothers was given it by Death himself," Hermione said by way of explanation.

"Yea but the stone is nothing more than that, right? A myth?" Ron leaned back, doubtful.

Luna did not say it but if a cloak of invisibility was somewhere in this school, how difficult was it to think that a legendary death conquering stone was here also?

"That's what we need to look at, Ron. We have to find out if Flamel really did come into possession of the Resurrection Stone," Hermione said with purpose.

"Thanks, Luna," Harry retrieved his broom and stood.

"That's ok. Sorry I can't tell you more. If I find the Quibbler with the article about Flamel in it, I'll lend it to you," she said, standing also and tightening her cloak around her, the darkening sky making her feel a little cold.

They walked together towards the castle and then, inside the main doors, Luna headed downwards towards Snape's rooms. She hoped he wouldn't ask much about her evening, she did not like deceiving him. In truth, the past hour had tingled with magic, she had been off on a secret assignation, sharing a covert project with a group of friends. Luna did not want to spoil it by giving her conscience a prod.

As it happened, the Professor was in his study when she got back, a pile of parchments set before him. After telling her there were some cold cuts in the fridge if she was hungry, he was once again absorbed in correcting homework, leaving Luna free to hide her little subterfuge in her heart and to enjoy feeling just a bit of a rebel.

The second time she snuck off to meet her three friends some days later, to inventing a covering story was easier. Once again, she told the Professor that she was working on a homework assignment with Gertrude Gormely and he accepted her explanation with no trace of doubt. The smoothness of the lie disquieted her, she did not admire this in herself but swiftly pushed the nagging unease away. She was going to help Harry, Ron and Hermione get into the restricted section of the library. Hermione was sure that more details of Nicholas Flamel might be found there but none had the necessary pass signed by a teacher.

Luna had procured it from Professor Trelawney. She had gone to visit her father's friend in her tower hideaway and spent the afternoon sweltering in the heavily perfumed heat of the room, chatting about Ossory St. Catchpole.

"It is charming village but so full of the aura of doom. A great darkness looms above it. I fear it touched your own cosy little home already. I am saddened to say the stars tell me it is unlikely you will ever return," Sybel stared myopically at Luna through the dense lenses of her glasses.

"Oh dear," Luna said without any great remorse.

She remembered Professor Trelawney's visits to her home and most of them included some dire warnings of imminent and ghastly death. None had come true so Luna was not about to worry overmuch about this particular forecast, though it was not nice to hear it. It was a little too close to what Luna herself had come to wonder.

Still, she had stayed determinedly interested in the seer's prophesies, waiting for her opportunity to ask for the signed pass and eventually it came. So, this time as Harry's Quiddich practice was ending, Luna was jogging across the grass to the stands, watching as the Gryffindor team was landing on the pitch, Oliver Wood congratulating them on a great session.

"Did you get it?" Hermione could barely contain her eagerness and Luna grinned happily and held up her hand, the tiny parchment roll peeking above her fist.

"Well done!" Ron said appreciatively.

"Luna, you are genius to have thought of Trelawney!" he laughed.

"She fell for it ok. I knew that once she got going about The Sight, all I had to do was tell her how I really wanted to know more. She was happy to sign once she thought she was helping another visionary get the inner eye opened!" Luna chuckled.

Laughing, the three made their way across the lawns and into the castle. Confidently, Hermione led the way to the library and although they got several stares from the librarian and although she looked as though she did not believe the note, there was no doubting it was real. Hermione said that the library system was enchanted to spot fakes and forgeries of any kind.

So, they were waved ahead and Hermione looked as though all of her Christmases had arrived at once.

As a general would send her troops into battle, Hermione dispatched her three accomplices with instructions on what to look for and where they might find it. She had reached number ten of a list seemingly called 'things to avoid in case it all goes horribly wrong', when Ron stopped her with an impatient gesture of his hand.

"Hermione, if we don't get moving, the library will close and we'll have wasted a perfectly good note!" he said.

So, they separated and crept among the tall shelves, walking slowly, as though through a jungle though which any number of wild beasts could emerge at any second.

None did, Luna was happy to discover. However, less reassuring was the lack of progress they were making even as the hour slipped by rather more quickly than they would have liked. Luna carefully read through many titles, some gruesome, some rather frightening and some indicating references to old and black magic. None gave any indication that they related to Nicholas Flamel or the Resurrection Stone.

Then, came a sound rather like a low hum. It reverberated off the stone walls around them but rather than be absorbed by the thousands of parchments and paper, it grew louder, more piercing and climbing in pitch until Luna thought her eardrums would surely burst. The noise filled her head, seemed to be echoing with her.

She stumbled back up the aisle she had been exploring to find the other three clustered around a book which lay open at Ron's feet.

Hermione was pointing her wand at it but having no effect whatever. Ron was looking shell shocked and was trying to say something but his words were lost in the cone of sound that spiralled terribly from the book.

…. "is not working!" Hermione's voice sounded at last, coming out rather as a hysterical scream.

Though all of their ears were ringing very unpleasantly, they realised the awful humming had suddenly stopped and only its echo remained. The silence seemed unnatural and uncomfortable after all the noise.

"Yea, blimey Hermione, at last!" Ron breathed with relief.

"I don't think it was anything I did," Hermione said but she was not looking at any of them. Rather, her gaze was fixed behind Luna and Harry.

"And you are correct, Miss Granger."

It was almost worse to hear that quiet but mocking tone than the enchanted drone of the book.

They all looked then and sure enough, there at the entrance to the restricted section, wand in hand and looking like a midnight nightmare stood Severus Snape.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

 **DISCLAIMER - None of these delightful characters are mine, all belong to JK Rowling.**

Obsidian eyes skated over them, the temperature in the library seemed to drop, making goosebumps stand on Luna's forearms but her face burned as though from high fever. The Professor had barely glanced at her, he took in the sight of all four of them, showing neither acknowledgement or affection in his expression.

"Four First Years in the restricted section. How extraordinary," he said, sounding mildly curious.

Luna knew there was nothing mild about him. This was the calm before the storm and the others knew it too. Ron looked as though he had met the Bandon Banshee by a haunted wood at midnight on the very day his favourite Quiddich team lost the World Cup.

Madam Pince came towards them, her sharp heels making an urgent clatter against the wooden floor. Snape accioed the book that lay on the floor, turning it over in his hand to view the cover.

"Sounds from the Living Grave- The Ancient Art of Listening to Infinity," he read aloud.

Inscrutable eyes flickered up to scan their faces once more.

"Going for extra homework credits, Miss Granger? A little reading to bulk out those Quiddich magazines you pore over Mr. Weasley?" he asked.

"No Sir, we came to look…" whatever Hermione was going to say was cut short as Luna interjected.

"Professor, we came to look for any information on the Deathly Hallows. I thought that I could do some research here. It was my idea and I asked Hermione, Ron and Harry to come with me," she said, looking up into her guardian's face.

Now, his eyes alighted on her and Luna felt her breath catch at the flare of anger she saw there. Still, she did not flinch.

"I got permission, Sir" she said evenly, and surprise sparked within his ebony scrutiny.

"Yes, they have a note, Professor Snape. I did wonder but it is legitimate," Madame Pince said archly, holding out the permission slip to him.

He took it, glanced down at it and his lips thinned, a muscle clenching in his jaw. His gaze rose to skewer Luna. One eyebrow arched.

"Permission in your name, signed by Professor Trelawney. How helpful of her," his lip curled.

He lifted his eyes from her and narrowed them as he took in the three other faces.

"If you think this pig and pug tale is fooling me, you are much mistaken. I do not know how you inveigled this permission slip but valid it is. Lucky for all of you or you would be serving a month of detentions in my dungeon! As it stands, twenty points from each of you for disturbing the silence of this library and I will be informing the Heads of your Houses as to your actions. Mssrs. Potter and Weasley, Miss Granger I would waste not another second in returning to your dorms if I were you. Should I see so much as the shadow of any of you where you are not supposed to be again and you will wish you had never stepped foot inside this castle!"," he snarled.

Three pairs of eyes flew to Luna who was standing silently by his elbow. He had not dismissed her.

"Get out!" he roared and they turned hastily in retreat, Hermione glancing back apologetically at Luna. Luna gave a small shrug and a hint of a smile, designed to reassure her friend that it wasn't so bad. Hermione didn't look convinced and Luna didn't feel it.

Once again silence floated like dust around them.

"Thank you, Madame Pince," Snape nodded to his prim looking colleague. Without another word, she drew back to her domain at the desk in the front of the building.

Luna waited into the frosty and hostile quiet. She heard her own breath, she heard his, the sound seemed to fill the room.

"You are becoming quite the academic. All of this help to the Gormely girl, now this research of your own. I can hardly keep up," he said at last, not looking at her.

Luna dropped her head, embarrassment flooding through her at getting caught out so badly and shame too, confronted with her deception.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, maintaining her careful study of the ground

"I'm going to get the truth out of you, that's what I am going to do!" he snarled.

"We really were looking for information about the Hallows," Luna said.

He whipped around and took her arm in a firm hold.

"You are about to get the spanking you have so richly earned. If you tell me another lie, so help me, I will administer it right here!" he growled at her.

Luna looked stricken. She'd known he would be angry if he found her out but the man glaring ferociously at her looked like a stranger.

She shook her head.

"I'm not lying," her voice was hoarse but her tone conveyed her sincerity. She looked into his eyes, even as fear swam in her own.

He released her suddenly and strode ahead of her.

"Come with me, now," his voice was clipped and cold.

Luna's feet seemed to obey of their own accord but she was barely able to match his determined march to his quarters.

As they descended into the dungeons, Luna felt the bleakness of the dank stone walls, cloaked in pulsing shadows sink into her skin, into her bones. She had lied to him and it had seemed like fun, sneaking off to meet her friends in secret. Now, it seemed stupid and childish and it had cost her something that she had not considered. She had betrayed the trust he had placed in her and there was no fun to be found in that thought.

She reached out and slipped her hand into his, suddenly overwhelmed at the idea of facing his wrath alone. She thought at first that he was going to pull away but though he did not speak and his pace did not slow, his fingers closed reassuringly around her own.

They entered his living room and a flick of his wand had the lights flickering but though darkness retreated, light did not dilute the tension. He let go of her and paced to the fireplace.

"I know you won't believe me but I am sorry. I'm not sorry for the fun I had but I am sorry that I was not honest with you about what I was doing," she said and her voice sounded very small, very papery in the leaden weight of ill humour that hung between them.

He dropped his head, the fall of his hair hiding his face. Luna waited for him to say something, the silence stretched and she wished he would say anything. She stood for endless seconds, her heart beating in a way that was painful, waiting for him to enact the punishment he had threatened and terrified of the moment when he would.

"Wait in your room," he issued the command without looking at her.

It was only when he heard her bedroom door close with a soft thunk that he rose his head and looked on an empty room he did not see.

He had a particular gift for anticipating what was to come, as a result few people ever caught him unaware. Time and again, Luna Lovegood had defied this comfortable standpoint of his and this evening's revelations had been no different. It had not occurred to him for a single second that she had been up to anything. Had he been looking closely enough? He did not know, he was not a parent and he felt his shortcomings keenly now.

He had worried that she would not have friends, solitary, almost other worldly creature that she was, now he seethed that she was being led into mischief making by having the wrong ones. Out of all of the students in this school, she had to be an ally for Harry Potter. He shook his head. A recipe for disaster, that's what it was, his shy ward and the adventure thirsty Potter and his friends marrying their fates.

He had wondered at the lack of adolescent insubordination Luna had shown from the start, now she seemed to have developed an appetite for it. Well, it was time to take matters in hand, he had been too lenient, too lax and the time had come to reinforce boundaries.

He took a determined step towards her bedroom, reaching to his waist as he did. He unbuckled his belt and drew it into his hand, with a soft whoosh as it came free of its loops. He folded it, the buckle tucked into his palm.

He stopped, looked at his hand, the strap of leather hanging from it and an image came to his mind, so clearly, so strongly, it was as though he had teleported into another setting.

In this one, he was a much younger version of himself, no more than eight years old and he was also watching a hand clutch a leather strap. Except this time, it was not he who wielded it, it was his father and Snape felt the wash of absolute terror and helplessness that sight had brought to him, even though there was much water under the bridge since that time.

He opened his free hand and lifted the other to bring the belt down once, a light stroke across his palm but just the same, the crack sounded too loud, a reprehensible noise that made his stomach roil. He could never strike the child with this, he knew and he flung the belt so it landed harmlessly on the couch.

He strode to her door, rapped his knuckles against it but did not wait for her to say anything before opening it. He stepped into her bedroom, his face sternly set and found her sitting on the edge of her bed and looking like she was awaiting a medieval torturer.

She was scared, properly frightened and he tightened his lips. Good, he thought. It was high time she learned that he was not running a free for all here, neither was he a lily livered, custard cream of man she could run rings around. He closed the door and gave her a glare that would have a room full of Slytherins wishing for the mothers.

Luna watched as her guardian came in, looked into his hard eyes and felt every thought in her head melt like late snow before the sun. She drew her knees up, wrapped her arms around them and rested her head against them, hiding her face and escaping those menacing eyes.

"Look at me young lady," he instructed and though Luna wished to obey, the most powerful enchantment in the world could not have made her rise her head.

"Luna."

Impatience made her name sound like an accusation. She squeezed her eyes shut.

She felt a hand on her head, a gentle touch that reached through the tendrils of negative emotions gripping her and brought comfort. It was a familiar and soothing gesture.

"What is it that you are afraid of?" Severus asked.

Slowly, her head came up but her eyes did not quite meet his.

"Being punished?" a brow lifted.

There was a small almost indiscernible shake of her head.

He paused, looked at her and his brows met in a disbelieving scowl.

"You are afraid of me?"

Her head turned, her eyes fixed on the wall opposite.

"You should know better than that. And you should know better than to lie to me and think that a few guilty looks will soften me up!" he scolded.

"I warned you before what would come of it if I found you being dishonest with me. I will make good on my word, Luna but I would never do anything to harm you. Never," he said sounding cross and unsympathetic and completely truthful.

She looked into his face and dipped her head in a single nod.

"I know that," she said softly.

"Then what is all this about?" he demanded.

"I know that it was wrong, not telling you the truth. And I feel bad about that but, Severus, it was fun, in a way," she said, feeling measures of guilt collide with the thrill of defiance within her.

It was alien to Luna to feel this perplexing cocktail but Severus pursed his lips, easily identifying the first reach for independence in a teenage heart.

"I am not going to punish you for the fun you have had, you troublesome brat. But I do not tolerate falsehoods and for that, there is a consequence," he said unrelenting.

"I want you to tell me what has been going on, all of it, no more games," he eased himself down to sit on the edge of her mattress alongside her.

Luna looked into his face,

"I've been meeting up with Hermione, Ron and Harry but you know this. I didn't tell you as I didn't think you would allow it," she began but her mind was whirring.

Luna was resigned to meet her guardian's ire herself but she did not intend to drop her friends in trouble.

He rewarded this statement with a sideways look laden with irony.

"What is it that you have been looking for that requires such secrecy?"

"We wanted to learn about the Resurrection Stone," she admitted, leaving out the name of Flamel.

"It seems like it might be here and if it is, we wanted to know more about it," Luna explained.

"Some people think that you know where it is, That you want to take it," she allowed in a more subdued tone.

"Some people? And you, Luna?" the black eyes were cooly interested.

Hers were steady in reply. She shook her head.

"You would never steal from Professor Dumbledore. He is your friend. You are prepared to do more for your friends than you really want to. That's how I know," she said.

He stayed silent, confronted yet again with that unsettling perception that came so easily to her. She saw more than he wanted her to, at times. It made him uneasy.

"You lot are meddling in things that are none of your business and it is finished! Do you understand me?" he said at last.

"Yes."

"You are well aware that jaunting around this castle with Merlin knows what out there that is still a threat to you is a bad idea, a dangerous thing to do and if I see any more it from you, I will make this encounter seem like a picnic by comparison," he was rather intimidating when he glowered like that.

Luna believed him.

"Let's get this taken care of. Up you get," he took hold of her arm and Luna obediently got to her feet, feeling an eerie sensation of having her stomach drop like gravity had suddenly grown stronger.

Without hesitation, he bent her across his knee, positioning her so that she lay facing the rug beneath his feet.

Luna saw the high shine of the black leather shoes he wore, the neat knot on his laces. The toes were gently rounded and slightly scuffed. Strands of her hair danced before her eyes like golden stripes. She studied these details as though trying to commit them to memory.

He delivered the spanking without further pause, swift smacks landing sharply. Her hands fisted in the cotton throw on her bed.

Snape was alarmed that this was her only reaction and above her, he frowned fiercely. What was she doing, trying to be stoic? Stubborn? Prove he could not get to her? He had given her eight deliberate swats, none severe but just the same, this endurance she was showing was more than disconcerting. There was not one tear, not even a reluctant sob. That was not natural.

He brought his hand down twice more, a little more forcefully this time but she pressed her face into her bed covers and made not one sound.

It was only when Luna felt his hands, strong and intent on her shoulders lifting her upright again that she realised the spanking had ended. She had no idea how long it had lasted, it seemed like weeks. She didn't know what to expect now. Was the Professor going to shout at her? Scold her? Tell her that she could not stay in his care any longer?

"Are you alright?"

She looked up, startled to see his face was pale, no, nearly white, his eyes flaring. He looked almost ill.

"I think so," she replied uncertainly.

There was an uncomfortable heat where his smacks had landed, she felt chastened, vulnerable, but what was really awful was the expression he was wearing. It hurt her to be confronted with it.

He cupped her face in his hands. He looked at her, his eyes searching for something but Luna knew not what it was and she felt frightened by the clinical analysis. He looked angrier at her now than he had before he had punished her.

"I'll be good, Severus. From now on, I won't give you any more trouble. I promise," she said a little desperately.

"You have not cried. Not one tear. How is that even possible?" he demanded.

"Do you want to show how strong you are? I know it already. Are you wanting to prove your stamina? I have all the proof I need!" his eyes were still fixed on her, the study frightening, inescapable.

"I don't feel like crying," Luna told him.

"What happened… the…. when you did that… it stung and I wanted it to be over. It is now," she went on.

"There is no shame in letting yourself cry, Luna. In showing how you are feeling. I can't read you. What if I had actually hurt you, given you too much? There was no way for me to know!"

He looked repulsed at the thought.

"You didn't. It wasn't nice, though," she confessed.

"There are times when you frighten the life out of me," he shook his head but it was something of a relief to Luna that the burning intensity of his gaze had quietened.

"I don't mean to."

"Lie yourself down, rest some. We will talk later when feelings are running not quite so high," he sighed.

He was uncomfortable, the interaction had felt unpleasant in a lingering way that he had not expected. Discipline he understood and could administer without any difficulty yet now, he felt quite horrible and strangely, ridiculously guilty. He had done nothing wrong, he told himself. This girl needed to be reminded of who was in charge but the thought did not bring him ease. So, he fell back on the one other resource in his repertoire, retreat.

Yet, before he made it through the door, he stopped and glanced back, saw that she was watching him, still standing on her bedroom floor. He saw how unsure of herself she seemed, now that the first steps into freedom caused her to crash and fall. Perhaps she wasn't so difficult to read afterall.

"You heard me. Rest now. Things will get better," he said, opened the door and left with only a rustle of his robes.

Luna followed his advice, lay on her tummy on top of her bed but she did not get under the covers. The pillow was cool beneath her cheek but her eyes felt hot. She let her eyelids drop, glad at the peaceful dark that shrouded her with her thoughts.

She hadn't meant to sleep, didn't think she could with so much swirling about in her head, so many feelings causing her heart to feel heavy from carrying them. Still, when Luna opened her eyes again, the room around her felt quiet, the sort of silence that comes with the night.

Sure enough, her window was a frame for the starlight in the sky outside as she got to her feet, wondering if she was the only one awake. After a few seconds indecision, she decided to investigate and let herself out into the hallway, following the rectangle of light at the end of the corridor that told her that Snape was still up and in the living room. Perhaps he was grading homework or reading, whatever it was, he was making not a sound. Somehow, she did not want to disturb the hush that had fallen, so without really thinking about it, she walked as soundlessly as a cat down the hallway and towards the light.

At the door, she paused, looked in and saw that the Professor was seated on the sofa, only his profile visible. She stood for a long moment, debating whether or not she should say something. He looked preoccupied and for all Luna knew, she was supposed to stay in her room until he told her otherwise. Or perhaps he did not want to be disturbed or maybe he simply did not want further intrusion from her this evening.

"Well, come here, then."

He rose an arm in an invitation to her and Luna fairly crossed the room in a heartbeat.

"How did you know I was there?" she asked, tucking herself into the crook of his arm.

"Magic," he said.

Luna's eyebrows shot up.

"You have enchanted the doorway?"

He jerked his chin at the large oak sideboard in front of the couch, the aged one that sat in the wall beside the fireplace. The glass panels reflected the room back to Luna's eyes, including the now empty threshold.

"Very funny!" she settled back against him, letting her head rest against his shoulder.

He was warm and strong and no matter that he was angry at her, Luna felt very much better than she had all alone in her room. He cuddled her to him for long moments without saying anything and she let herself be comforted without breaking the companionable silence.

At last, though he looked down on the top of her head.

"You are being very quiet. Are you sure you are alright?" he asked and his tone was gentle.

She nodded against him.

"Yes, sir. I'm ok. If you don't mind though, I'd like to stay here a bit longer."

He chuckled briefly, the sound a rumble in his chest near her ear.

"You may stay as long as you want."

"Severus? I shouldn't have lied. And I'm sorry about it," her voice was partially muffled as she kept her head down.

"So you have told me. You don't have to keep apologising, Luna. It has been dealt with," he replied.

"Do I have to stop being friends with Harry and Ron and Hermione?" Luna made her voice sound light. Then she bit her lip and waited, then she squeezed her eyes shut, feeling silly to do so. It was not as if this could block out an answer she didn't want.

He sat forward and away from her, turning to look down into her face.

"What are you doing? Open your eyes and look at me!" he sighed.

"Of course you do not. I would choose different friends for you if it were up to me, I confess. But it is not up to me! You are free to choose your own friends, as all of us must be if we are to be happy," he said.

Luna's face brightened instantly, he saw.

"But there is one thing to remember from now on," he warned.

"It is my approval you need to be mindful of, not that of your friends."

Her colour heightened but she gave a resigned nod.

"Yes, I know. No more sneaking around behind your back."

"Absolutely none. And we will have truth between us from now on, are we agreed?" his midnight eyes stayed on hers until she blinked.

"Agreed," there was openness in her expression but then, a small frown shadowed it.

"What is it?" he asked, alert.

"You think you will be able to trust me again?"

Now her eyes flickered from his. He placed a finger under her chin, lifted her face until she had no choice but look at him.

"I have not stopped trusting you. I did not care to find that you told me a pile of convenient fibs but I have not come to believe you are a career liar," he had that look again, the one that said he expected better of her.

"But you are still cross with me."

"Yes. And I plan to be for a time yet! That is what happens when you worry about someone and discover that they are behaving without good common sense!" he snapped.

"And given that you have avoided looking at me of your own volition since you came in here, I can deduce and I think correctly that you are cross with me, Miss Lovegood!" he huffed.

"Only because you…. You were mean to me," she finished lamely.

"Mean to you? I gave you nothing more or less than you deserved! But I would be very happy not to have to repeat it, I will tell you that," he growled.

"Be cross with me all you want, Luna. Just don't hate me forever," he leaned back against the back of the couch and now, her eyes flew to his face freely.

"I don't hate you!" she said emphatically.

Then she leaned back, finding her place snuggled against his side once more.

"I just don't like you very much right now," she murmured.

Behind her, a crooked smile lifted Snape's lips. He had asked her to be honest!

He lifted his arm around her again and presently, he heard her breathing grow deep and even and knew she had fallen asleep. Carefully he stood and hefted her into his arms, preparing to carry her to her bed. She felt weightless and he looked at his tiny burden, feeling an intense gladness just to know where she was, to have her where he knew he could protect her.

When he started caring so much about that? He could not remember now. Nor could he think of a way back before that time.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

 **DISCLAIMER - None of these delightful characters are mine, all belong to JK Rowling.**

The approach of Halloween brought an amber glow to the far away tree tops on the other side of the lake and ruffled its surface with ruffs of white lace as little waves skudded before the wind. Inside the castle, candles twinkled, and Hagrid brought pumpkin lanterns to the great Hall that gave off soft light and it looked to Luna as though the world was gilded.

Everywhere, there was talk of the Halloween feast and the Weasley twins, Ron's brothers, George and Fred talked of it as though it was better than Christmas and summer all rolled into one. They also promised some of the best fireworks to those who ordered with them early and this alone had produced an excited flurry among the other students.

Like everyone else, Luna was looking forward to her first Halloween at Hogwarts and even the snickering jeers of the Slytherins didn't dampen the atmosphere for her. Malfoy and his cronies had taken to whispering things like 'Where should you look for your dad? In the same place you lost your marbles!" whenever they met her but Luna hardly even heard them anymore.

She and Neville had plans to hatch their own frobble flies and Neville even had a luscious pot of the little insects' favourite herb, sage. Luna was really pleased, not many people believed in the pixie like frobble flies but Neville was open to trying and he said even if it didn't work, his gran loved sage and he was all for growing as much of it as might make a nice gift for her.

Also, things had gotten better with her guardian. In the days after the spanking, she had felt embarrassed around him, self conscious but gradually, the feeling passed. For one thing, though Luna half expected that he would treat her with censure, he was not harsh, he was just his normal self.

They ate breakfast each day, he reminded her to do her homework, he fixed her bracelet when it snapped with a swift flick of his wand. There was a fire every evening in the grate and he always knew the answer whenever she asked him the meaning of words she did not recognise in her stories. She often sought him out after the last lesson of the day, when it was just the two of them in his classroom, tidying away potions or stacking equipment.

He told her about the properties of many of the herbs and potions in his store and sometimes, had her fill out orders for supplies he was running short on. She would sit at his desk, meticulously writing down the order he dictated to her on a fresh parchment roll as he crushed herbs or combined ointments to make a potion.

Then one evening, as the candle in the lantern was burning past its halfway mark, he straightened from his bench, pinched the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb, a gesture Luna associated with him being tired. His gaze was pensive as it rested silently upon her as she finished labelling jars.

"If I didn't know better, Luna, I would think someone had enchanted the floor and turned it to eggshells. You've been doing a very good impression of walking on them around me these past few days," he remarked at length.

She looked at him open eyed.

"What have you been expecting me to do? Grow fangs and snarl at you with them?" he was partially amused but also more than a tad frustrated.

She was being meticulously circumspect towards him, making every effort to seem natural. It was completely transparent to him. She was all but turning her self inside out to ensure she had regained his favour.

He had taken the approach after the spanking of least said soonest mended but so far, this did not seem to yielding dividends. So, he decided, it was time for honest exchange of thoughts.

"Not exactly. I don't like when there is bad feeling between us. I want you to know that I mean to do better," she said, still with the same open expression.

Severus felt a strange tightness in his throat. To dispel it, he sighed then gave a little cough.

"You are doing very well as it is, child. Take my word for it," he said earnestly.

"You are eleven years old. It is to be understood that not every choice you make will be a wise one. You did something you shouldn't have and we dealt with it. There will be no further punishment for what happened," he said.

He narrowed his eyes as a realisation dawned.

"And I do not think anything less of you because of your little escapade," the reassurance brought a hopeful glint to the jade eyes.

"I hoped not but I was a little troubled about that. I kept thinking about the way most people here are just about scared out of their wits of you and you aren't known for giving second chances. I want us to be ok," she said.

"What makes you think that we are not?" he watched her carefully.

"You are awfully nice to me but I don't know if beneath it, you are still displeased " she admitted.

"To speak the truth, I am disappointed. It is my nature to nurse cloudy feelings longer than perhaps I should. I know that it is the privilege of young people to be reckless but that does not make me like it any better! But I will get over it."

"It has nothing to do with second chances, Luna, simply because I am not keeping count," he came and leaned against his desk, folding his arms across his chest.

Luna let his words settle around her like the powdery dust that was suspended in the candlelight. They brought a lot of solace.

"That's better than ok," she decided.

Snape wasn't sure how it was that just a few words from him could make her happy, could take the terrors that frightened her and turn them to dust. It was a strange power, one he had never sensed within himself and one that he did not think he could draw on with anyone but this child. He had cursed Dumbledore for foisting this burden upon him, he had never suspected it would call from within him strengths whose worth he had never before understood.

The air was certainly cleared for Luna, who even walked as though her steps were lighter. The skies were bright during the day, the crystalline clarity that promised a host of stars come night and round moons that glowed purest white. There was something cosy about the evenings that fell as softly as the first russet leaves from the old trees on the grounds. The Great Hall buzzed with talk and laughter each night and after the feast on just such an evening Neville caught up with Luna as she made her way through the large double doors.

"Have you heard about the All Hallows revel in the Gryffindor tower, Luna?" he asked eagerly.

A shake of her head had him explaining about a fun party that took place the evening before Halloween and seemed to have everything. There would be mouth watering sweets, exciting games, with Fred and George promising a little something extra.

"Sounds amazing," Luna smiled.

Neville's enthusiasm was infectious.

"It will be! And it's open to students from other houses. Well not Slytherins. But I thought that maybe, well, maybe you'd like to come," Neville finished the last on a breathless rush and a scalding colour rose in his rounded cheeks.

Luna looked at him, her smile widening but then it faded as her thoughts caught up with her excitement.

"It would be great but I don't know if Professor Snape will allow it," she said regretfully.

"I thought he'd pretty much cooled down," Neville said.

Although Luna had not told him the details of what had happened after he had discovered her in the library with Harry, Ron and Hermione, it didn't need to be said that he had exacted a penalty.

"He has but I don't know if he'd give the green light to a party with Gryffindors," she said doubtfully.

"No harm in asking, though," Neville said but he didn't hold out much hope either as he thought of the severe Potions Master.

"Maybe not. I can try. The party sounds worth it!" Luna was smiling again to even think of going to such a fun event.

She was back before the Professor that evening and when he came in, he was quickly lost in a pile of parchments, homework submitted by his OWL students.

"You have probably seen more Halloween feasts here than you can remember," Luna said speculatively, looking up above the rim of her book.

"Hmmm?" he didn't rise his eyes from the script in front of him.

"Halloween. You probably know all about the feast and the parties," Luna said again.

"More nuisance than anything. An excuse for students to act like imbeciles," he murmured.

"So people do make an effort then. Professor Bins said the Cornish pixies once put on an air display on the grounds. He said people were talking about it for fifty years after."

"Which is how long it took to rebuild the outbuildings they destroyed," came the reply.

"All very immature," Luna said injecting what she thought was an impressive amount of disapproval into her tone.

It might just as well have been Madame Pince talking.

She returned to her reading. The fire crackled. A shower of sparks chased each other up the blackened funnel of the chimney.

"Probably a lot of noise and mess," she added, lowering the book once more.

Silence.

"Very distracting to study too," she nodded to herself.

She turned a page, followed the words with here eyes, saw none.

"Not your thing at all, Luna," he observed dryly, his quill moving rapidly across the bottom of the latest parchment.

Every word was in red ink. The nib even sounded scolding against the page.

"Oh no," she kept her eyes on her book.

Seconds ticked by.

"Though it might be fun," the wistful admission was soft.

"Maybe even exciting. I've never been to a party before," she looked at the flames, imagining they were elves dancing to music only they could hear.

"Which of the parties have you been invited to?" he paused in his corrections for her answer.

"Gryffindor's. Neville asked if I'd like to go."

Again, silence.

"I wasn't really expecting to."

"If you are asking my permission, then you may go."

"I figured you wouldn't approve of it," she flicked a page of her book against her fingers.

"It is fine."

"Yes, I understand and I'm not disappointed, not at all… What?"

She swivelled on the couch to look at him, this time, giving him her attention.

Black eyes twinkled at her.

"You may go," he said again.

She let out a strange little whoop, more of a squeal and suddenly, he had an armful of squirming, happy child as she hugged his neck, scattering the pile of parchments as she landed on his lap.

Taken aback, he went still and then patted her back awkwardly.

"Luna!" he said, trying to sound stern but his breath puffed out in a small laugh.

"Thank you, Severus," her face was flushed with excitement as she got to her feet.

"Oh. I'm sorry, I'll help," she took note of the disordered pile of scrolls.

She bent to retrieve them, dropping them almost as soon as her fingers closed on them.

He chuckled.

"You are welcome. Leave that but listen to me now. There are conditions," his face grew serious.

He accioed the parchments and in the blink of an eye, they were once again an orderly pile before him.

"You may go to the party…," again, she beamed.

"But," he continued warningly.

"But, Mr. Longbottom picks you up and accompanies you to the Gryffindor Tower. You may stay out until ten and I myself will take you back here," he said.

The happy grin wavered a little.

"Severus, um. The Gryffindors are a bit protective of their tower. They might not like a teacher turning up," she said.

They definitely would not like this particular teacher turning up, she knew but refrained from saying so.

"I am more than a bit protective of you and there is no way that you are wondering around this castle alone at night. Those are the conditions, take them or leave them," he said, looking into her eyes.

Luna knew there was no talking him out of it.

"However, I suppose that having the Head of Slytherin turn up for you amid a roomful of Gryffindors might not be an image improver," he conceded.

"So I will meet you on the corridor outside the portrait at ten. If you are late by the twitch of the second hand and I will come looking for you," he said.

Luna nodded.

"Ok," the smile was back.

She was getting to go to the party, that was the important thing. She could hardly wait to tell Neville.

"Or I could have Mr. Filch meet you instead," he rose an eyebrow at her and laughed outright as she grimaced.

"No. I'll meet you on the stroke of ten," she agreed.

He nodded at her.

"Good girl. Now go on, off with you before I change my mind," he was still chuckling.

Luna could hardly believe it, that had been far easier than she could have imagined! She went to her room and got out her Transfiguration homework but her mind was filled with dreams of popping fireworks and foaming jugs of butterbeer. She didn't really know what to expect from the party, having nothing to compare it to but she imagined lots of laughter and happiness and herself in midst of it all. When she fell asleep, even her dreams sparkled with winking candlelight and the joy on the faces of friends.

Two days before Halloween, the Three Broomsticks pub was quiet. Inside the interior, the fading daylight filtered through the windows to create a soupy kind of haze that looked almost three dimensional. An aged wizard hunched beneath a ragged shawl at the counter. Close to the open grate two witches sat at a table, each with a glass of sparkling blackberry wine in a goblet before them.

The hem of perfectly pressed ebony robes just swept against the floor as Severus Snape walked from the door to the bar. Dust rose in tiny tendrils beneath his feet but strangely, did not seem to dull the gleam on his black leather shoes. Madame Rosmerta looked up from her spot behind the bar, surprise registering on her pretty features.

It was many years since the Professor had patronised her pub. There was a time when he was to be found here often in the week, nursing his own company and glass of fire whiskey long into the night. Those were dark days indeed, uncertainty everywhere, distrust and suspicion making the air sizzle, undercurrents of fear making it weigh like a dampened cloak against one's skin.

Those days were long gone, Professor Snape was a highly regarded educator, an esteemed position in a world class wizarding school giving him an air of respectability that he wore with a polish and grace that few could match. Quickly suppressing her shock at seeing him, Rosmerta reached for the bottle of fire whiskey on the shelf beneath the counter and fixed a smile on her glossy red lips. He gave a quick shake of his head.

"Not today, Rosmerta, thank you."

Interested, she gave him a puzzled look.

He leaned over the bar and intrigued she bent towards him.

"Though I would like your help with a small favour," he said quietly.

"Anything, Professor," the hostess said earnestly.

What he described had her smile widening as she listened. Finally, she looked up at him and placed her hands on her hips, the very essence of confidence.

"New clothes? Well! This I can do!" she grinned.

"The little girl will love it. I give you my word! If I know anything, I know style!" she asserted.

Slightly alarmed at her exuberance and taking in the plunging neckline of the close fitting blouse she was wearing, Severus pursed his lips.

"Just remember, little girl she is but she is accompanying a young man to this party and I would hate for him to love it too much. It could prove very bad for his health," he muttered.

"Leave it with me, Professor. I know just the thing," Rosmerta's eyes glinted cheerfully at him.

The following afternoon, Luna bolted in the door and flung her bag into the cupboard. The last class of the day had ended at long last and she was free to look forward to the party. It was all she could do to may of maintain the pretence of interest in History of Magic. Her head was too full of thoughts of fireworks and laughing with her friends.

She opened her bedroom door and lying on top of the duvet was a small, square package. She blinked and slowly walked to the edge of the bed and looked down, smiling as she saw the bright star bursts of enchanted fireworks crackling against the inky backround of the wrapping. Little crescent moons, silver and glowing sailed across the parcel and the magical sight delighted Luna so much that at first, she didn't even think to open it.

Then, she extended a hand, lifted the parcel and it felt light. She turned it over and over, relishing the mystery of what was contained within. She lowered herself onto the bed and laid the parcel in her lap. Then slowly, she lifted apart the wrapping and gasped as a light garment poured from inside, as though made of fluid.

Luna picked it up, held it from her, realised that it was dress, a lovely burnt orange colour, with a scalloped neck and tiny pleats at the waist that made the knee length skirt look full. It was sophisticated and grown up and just her size. She ran her hand over the fabric, it felt soft and rustled deliciously, like it was whispering something secret and feminine to her.

When she heard the outer door open and close she knew the Professor was home. She stood and walked to the living room door, carrying the dress as though it was likely to disintegrate in her hands at any second.

"From you?" she asked and he turned around, frowning a little.

His face cleared when he saw what she was holding.

"Ah. Yes. You aren't wearing it. Don't you like it? I won't be offended, you know if it is not to your taste," he said.

"I love it! It's beautiful. But Severus, you.. I don't… I didn't expect this and you have been so good to me," she looked up at him, dazzled.

"Luna, it is a gift. Enjoy it. That is all," he sighed at her.

He was relieved that he had made the right choice in looking to Rosmerta. He had considered seeking Minerva's assistance but thought that as an older witch, she might not be as in tune with youthful fashions as he was hoping. Luna had her own peculiar sense of style but this would be the first time she had gone to a party with young people her own age. He wanted for her to fit in.

Luna's eyes sparkled at him and her cheeks were flushed pink. Once again, he found himself marvelling at how little it took to make her happy.

"So what are you waiting for? Go put it on and get ready. I can't imagine Mr. Longbottom will wish to dally here, especially if I am entertaining him as he waits," deep, dark eyes glinted, amused.

She turned to obey him, took two steps and was back before he had seated himself in his chair.

"I think you are simply marvellous," she said in a rush.

Colour flooded to his own cheeks now.

"It's a dress, silly child. Not the elixir of life!" he murmured, uncomfortable.

"Severus. Would you mind if I asked you something?" she edged beyond the threshold, looking sudden nervous.

"Something else, I think you mean."

Then, he saw the intent look on her face and his eyes grew serious.

"Of course, Luna. You may ask me anything you wish," he said earnestly.

His face was neutral, his eyes calm but in truth, he felt his blood quicken curiously. He had no idea what had occasioned this sombre approach of hers. He could think of nothing he would dread more than questions seeking any kind of romantic advice and his mind was whirring with lightening speed as to how to deflect them.

She was looking as flustered as he was feeling and this did little to reassure him. Merlin's beard he would stun Longbottom on the spot if this was leading to some kind of confidence about anything pertaining to the word boyfriend.

"If dad comes back, I mean when we find him and if I get to go back to live with him, can you and I still be friends? You are the first friend I ever had. The best friend I've ever had," she said.

Relief flooded through him so powerfully that he was prepared to agree to the transfer of a vital organ in simple gratitude. With his heart able to beat at a normal rhythm now that the threat of traversing an emotional minefield was removed, Snape actually looked at the girl.

Once again, she had completely blind sided him and once again, she was looking at him with open sincerity and his eyes warmed to see such raw honesty.

"Luna, I think that may be the nicest compliment I've been paid. As I understand it, friendship is not defined by where those involved in it live. You have a home with me as long as you need it and my friendship for very much longer," he said.

She looked more pleased than she had over the dress. He would never fathom the way she processed the world, especially a world in which he had been cast as a friend of note.

Luna looked at his gaunt features, his unsmiling eyes. He had sounded just as chivalrous as a knight from ancient lands and his answer had quietened a concern that had long started to niggle. He was important to her and Luna could not now imagine her life without him in it. Knowing that no matter what her uncertain fate delivered, it would not include losing the solid support of him, well, that was an anchor in turbulent waters. It brought her world to rights.

"Better get ready, then." she said serenely.

Snape reached for his book and blew out a steadying breath. He had barely picked up the thread of the words he was reading when a knock interrupted him. At least, it might have been a knock. It might also have been an insect glancing off the door, so low was the sound.

Snape rose and crossed the room, pulling the door open with an impatient swing. On the other side, a round face boy stood, his head lifting as he rose his eyes to his host's face. With one eyebrow arching, Snape stood in the doorway, silent, formidable as a fortress wall.

Neville Longbottom swallowed loudly, his normally ruddy features drained so that his eyes seemed even more vivid against the pale skin of his face. Snape crossed his arms over his chest, a slow movement and the boy flinched, clearly imagining that he was seconds away from being turned into something miserable.

Then he cleared his throat, took a deep breath and in a voice that was rather more high pitched than normal he spoke.

"I'm here… to meet Luna, Sir, Professor Snape, Sir."

Snape did not react, gave no visible sign he had heard. It was a studied stillness that he presented and invariably, it made his companions squirm. It was particularly potent against this young man, he saw and this gave him a vicious kind of enjoyment. He could have kept it up indefinitely. However, he was surprised to see that Longbottom settled on his feet, as though planting them against a flight. The boy was steeling himself, he was afraid but he was not going to back away. Snape was mildly impressed to see his resolve. Not that he would ever betray the slightest clue of that thought to Longbottom.

"You had better come in then," he said instead, moving aside just enough to let Neville enter.

Barely crossing the threshold, Neville stood, looking anywhere but at the Potions Master. Silence descended again like a choking fog and the seconds seem to tick by with painful, enhanced slowness. Again, Snape was pleased to note the lad did not fidget or shuffle. He was pretending to be very interested in the shelves behind his teacher's back and though he looked like he wanted nothing more than to escape this room and the older man, he was trying hard to present a confidant exterior.

Finally, Luna stepped into the room, the sunlight to dispel the vapours of ill ease. Her guardian's brows rose as he took in the transformation she had effected in the few moments of her absence. She was wearing the new dress and her hair tumbled in blonde waves down her back. She had accessorised the outfit with a necklace of interconnected silver rings, suspiciously resembling shower curtain rings and she had draped a shimmery string shawl over her shoulders. The overall finish was perhaps a little more grown up than he was ready for but still very Luna.

"It was mum's," she said, holding out the ends of the wrap, seeing Snape's gaze.

"You look great!" Neville piped in, making the Professor look at him swiftly, eyes black as dead pools.

The boy fell into a subdued quiet but Luna smiled sweetly.

"Thanks, Neville. Better be off, don't you think?" she made towards the door.

"Enjoy yourself, Luna. Remember, ten o'clock," Severus' expression mellowed as it found his ward.

"Ten," she nodded.

"Bye, Professor." A wave and she was gone.

Luna and Neville practically raced along the corridors, taking the stairs two at a time in their haste to reach the Gryffindor tower. For no reason, other than that they were happy, they laughed giddily, though they hardly said anything at all. Finally, they stood before the portrait of the Fat Lady, who, at that very moment was laughing coquettishly as a little knight, sitting on a stout pony regaled her with a tale of a deathly duel for the heart of a fair lady. She looked at the two arrivals, faintly irritated at the interruption.

"Come on, get on with it!" she hissed.

Her friend had just gotten to the part where he was looking straight into the malicious red eyes of his rival and knew death was imminent.

"I knew no fear, only a determination to gain the day for love's sake!" he proclaimed, brandishing a silver sword.

"Oooh, not you, Sir Cadogan," she simpered and shot the students a warning look.

"Password or off you go!"

Neville looked perplexed for a few seconds, then shouted "Pumpkin Seeds!" triumphantly and the portrait swung open.

"Remembering them is a bit tricky," he admitted to Luna as they stepped into a wall of colour and sound.

It was a night that Luna would always remember. It was everything she had imagined it would be only better. There was laughter and merry making, treats and sweets aplenty and the Weasley twins kept letting loose amazing streamers that looked exactly like dragons, swirling, emitting fabulously vibrant smoke in shades of crimson and gold. They would circle and swoop, fast and dazzlingly bright, then disappear in a puff of magenta steam.

There were games of find the ghost, when ordinary objects were enchanted to look like tiny spooks, each one dashing off to a hiding place, waiting capture. Luna found all of hers, even a bewitched salt cellar that hid itself in the twigs of Lee Jordan's broom.

Luna could not remember when she had so much fun and all too soon, she checked the time, amazed to find it was ten minutes off ten o'clock. Fred Weasley was firing up to tell a scary story, featuring his mother's garden gnomes and an eccentric old ghoul when she took her leave. Luna did feel regret at having to go but a great deal of pleasure to hear the cheery calls from her friends, bidding her farewell and telling her that they would see her at the feast tomorrow.

Stepping out of the portrait, she found the Gryffindor corridor lit with flickering candles. It was empty, except for a tall, darkly clad figure standing with his back to her. The Professor turned in a graceful arc, his eyebrows rising as he sighted her.

"Right on time," he said approvingly.

"I gave you my word," she smiled.

"Severus, that was amazing! Did you know that chocolate mice actually have whiskers that actually twitch? Galahad would love to see them! And are there really such things as vampire guinea pigs? Seamus Finnegan said he was almost victim of a really vicious one last Hallowe'en in Ireland. I don't know though, guinea pigs seem a bit tame for that sort of thing. Don't you think?" she drew in a breath and looked up at him, eyes sparkling.

Snape chuckled.

"Child, I might think better if you weren't firing questions at me!"

He found her rushing narrative as entertaining as it was refreshing. She could hardly make the words come fast enough to say everything she wanted to and it was heartening to see so much happiness on her face. He might have found her streaming chat irritating once but now, he was gratified to walk beside her in silence, letting the flow of her words wash over him, giving him a sense of well being to share her joy.

As they reached a silent second floor corridor, a streak of grey brought their steps up short. Snape's fingers closed on his wand but Luna was hunkering down and cooing delightedly.

"Galahad! Now that is just wonderful! I was just talking about you. I bet you heard."

Her guardian swallowed the relieved sigh that rose in his throat at the sight of the cat. He resumed walking, Luna skipping beside him, picking up her observation that marshmallows tasted much better when suspended magically to roast over the fire than when held on long metal skewwers muggle fashion. They tuned a corner just above the main staircase and suddenly, Galahad stopped cold, back arching and a fierce hissing sound coming from his open mouth.

The entrance hall stretched below them, in front, the corridor seemed deserted. Still, the little cat stared rigidly at a tapestry, his fangs exposed, his body stiff and ears pricked sharply. Snape's fingers circled around his wand once more and he too stopped, standing still as the Hogwarts statuary.

Luna looked up at him, alert now and he pressed a shapely finger against his lips.

Then, as if materialising from the stone of the outer walls, the be-turbaned figure of Professor Quirrell stepped into the faint candle light.

Snape rose an eyebrow, his only greeting. Realising he had company, the shorter, thinner man clasped his hands and fixed a smile that looked more like a grimace on his pale lips.

"P-p-p-p-rofessor Snape! Out s-s-so late!" Quirrell attempted a sorry sort of half bow.

"As am I of c-c-course. Just checking to m-m-m-make sure all is secure," he continued, answering a question that was not asked.

"You will be p-p-p-pleased to know the castle is p-p-p-perfectly s-s-s-safe," he continued, the stammer worsening as he gabbled.

Was he nervous? Luna certainly thought he looked it but also something else, uneasy too but why would that be, given his specialty at identifying dark magic?

"Pleased. Yes." Snape's eyes were fixed and hard.

He did not look pleased and he did not sound it either. He glanced down at Luna.

"You may go on. Galahad will accompany you. I am going to have a quick word with Professor Quirrell," he said mildly but the other man paled visibly and Luna thought he was actually starting to tremble.

Luna only nodded and set off once more, Galahad reluctantly taking his furious eyes off the Dark Arts teacher. As they descended the stairway, she looked briefly backwards over her shoulder at the two men. Her guardian leaned closer to the now cowering Quirrell and she heard his voice as nothing more than a noxious growl.

"…We will talk again… Choose which side," she heard the words but made no sense of them.

By the time she reached the halfway point on the stairs to their dungeon quarters, the Professor had caught up with her.

"Severus. Just now, did Professor Quirrell step out from behind a tapestry?" she asked.

"Yes, Luna. I believe he did," he replied, flicking his wand so the door of their quarters opened to admit them.

.

.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

 **DISCLAIMER - None of these delightful characters are mine, all belong to JK Rowling.**

The next day was Saturday, it was Halloween and the feast was on everyone's lips. Talk of steaming bowls of thick squash soup, creamy pumpkin pies, hot apple cider, chocolate cherries and lots more had students in an upbeat mood, impatient for evening to fall.

Luna went and watched the Ravenclaw team at Quiddich practice that morning, sitting happily in the chill of a new day starting. Her breath fogged before her eyes, her toes felt numb as she sat in the stands and she kept her hands clamped under her arms for warmth as her friends soared and dipped in the pale blue far above.

The team was in buoyant mood when training finished, landing with happy whoops and Luna and the few others who had gone to lend moral support joined them on the pitch, high-fiving Morwenna Wimple, the keeper on a particularly fine save towards the end of the session.

"If you play like that next Saturday, Hufflepuff don't stand a chance!" Gertrude asserted cheerfully.

"It poses a completely different challenge to your opponent when you play a tactical game!" Morwenna grinned.

"I can smell victory in the air and roast marsmallows for dessert this evening!" Ravenclaw's Seeker, a boy called Robin Drinkwater chuckled.

The team went to change and Gertrude was off to the owlery to send a message home. Luna thought it might be a good time to visit Hagrid. So, she took her leave of her friends and went across the lawn, stepping crisply on grass dusted by the fragile frost of an early winter morning.

She found the gamekeeper in an uncharacteristically glum frame of mind.

"Hullo there, Luna!" he greeted her, his huge bulk filling the opening of the door as he pulled it wide.

Though the words were welcoming and he beckoned her in, his eyes were not twinkling with their usual cheer and his shoulders were hunched.

"Is something wrong?" Luna asked at once.

"Oh Groundskeeper problems!" he puffed, filling the kettle and settling it on top of the already hot stove.

"There's something in the forest. Somethin' that don't belong," Hagrid went on.

"I don' understand it. Never seen nuthin' like it before," he continued.

"What is it?" Luna asked, concerned to see Hagrid's deep worry.

"That's just it, I don' know. But something is off. Somethin is movin' in the forest, at night. A hateful thing, that's all I know. It's been after the unicorns…"

Luna's eyes widened, shock and distaste stirring,

"The unicorns? That's awful. To harm a unicorn is just about the worst thing you could do. Who would be so downright ugly?"

"Harming a unicorn, well it's evil, Luna," Hagrid agreed, no closer to seeing cause of his trouble.

"My dad said that unicorn magic is older than Merlin. That is was the first herd in Britain who gave him his powers. They named Camelot after the finest stallion in that first herd," Luna said.

"Well. Your dad is right about their magic being old. Powerful too. I just gotta up my vigil of the forest," Hagrid poured a steaming mug of tea for Luna and one for himself.

She sensed that the unicorn attacks, unsettling as such a wickedness surely was, was not the only thing bothering her friend but she did not probe further. Instead, Luna accepted the tea and the rather hardened scone Hagrid proffered and the conversation turned to the feast and the pumpkins Hagrid was still to deliver to the Great Hall for decoration.

By the time she took her leave, the large man was in a somewhat better mood. Luna made her way back to Snape's quarters, thinking to surprise her guardian with a light lunch. He usually immersed himself in restocking his potion stores on Saturday afternoons and Luna thought he might like to have a nice, tasty meal ready for him before setting to the regular task. Also, having something to do would help pass the time quicker, the feast was starting to feel a long way away!

She was just finishing setting the table when the door opened and Snape swept into his room with a customary flurry of his robes. Right enough, he looked fairly taken aback at seeing his table delicately dressed in a lace tablecloth and decorated with a pumpkin lantern flickering on the centre.

"What's all this?" he looked quizzically at her.

"We aren't having company, are we?" he tried not to sound forbidding but the very idea made him want to retreat to his office.

"Oh, no. Just us. I thought seeing as it's Halloween, it might be nice to make an effort at lunch," Luna replied, marshalling the cutlery into order.

Curiously, he picked up a straggly bouquet of laurel leaves and scarlet rosehips. It was tied with a velvet ribbon, just as red as the berries.

"That's a berry bouquet, great for keeping vampire moths away," Luna explained and he replaced the arrangement, giving her a bemused look.

"Well, sit down then!" she chivvied him and strangely, the tall and dour Potions Master found himself complying meekly.

She served them fluffy baked potatoes and lashings of butter and for a while, they ate in a companionable silence.

"I went to see Hagrid earlier," she supplied at last.

"He's a bit upset. Something is after the unicorns. Isn't that just the worst thing you've ever heard?" Luna said at last.

Snape's expression was guarded, thoughtful.

"You knew this already," Luna's observation was correct and he did not need to confirm it for her.

"I don't know if it is the worst thing but certainly it is among the most distasteful things I have heard. And Hagrid is right to be worried," the Professor said.

"You have your suspicions about it. Can you tell me?"

"I have nothing more than a certain doubt, a niggle," he admitted.

"Professor Quirrell, do you think he's mixed up in it?" she asked, catching him by surprise with the accuracy of her question.

"I do wonder, yes. There are things happening at the school that are out of the ordinary and then some. Your elf friend, the unicorns, things not easily explained. They began with his arrival here. Hard not to dismiss that," Severus gave her the truth in answer.

Despite her little nods to beliefs that were unorthodox, the girl had a depth of understanding that commanded his respect.

"He does rather act like there is something he does not want you to know," Luna agreed.

"Me?" he frowned.

"He's always kind of jittery, poor Quirrell. But when you are nearby, his eyes are steady and they follow you, even though he acts more nervous than ever."

She was surprised to see his lips lift with a ghost of a smile.

"You have a gift for observation. Proving yourself quite the Ravenclaw, little Miss Lovegood. I think Slytherin might have missed out with you," he nodded at her.

They finished their meal, Snape banishing the magically cleaned dishes with a flick of his wand.

"I will see you at the feast tonight. Lunch was very enjoyable, Luna."

With her guardian busy in his office and soon to be immersed in potion stocks in his dungeon storeroom, Luna tucked herself into her favourite spot on the couch in his library, chose a title from the books be had bought her and the afternoon drifted away in contented simplicity. Vague fears for lost unicorns and the mystery of the Dark Arts Professor faded as Luna's imagination took her away to gilded castles, where secret princesses waited to be discovered and handsome knights won their hearts.

She was surprised that when she lifted her eyes from her book, it was dark out, hours had passed and the eagerly awaited feast was suddenly not so far off at all. With feet light as feathers, Luna went to run a comb through her hair and put her robes on, as students were expected to wear for the celebration. This was her first Halloween at Hogwarts and she was determined to enjoy it, to push all her troubles aside. This should be an evening to remember, one that she would look back on for the best of reasons.

Ten minutes later, Luna was one of a milling throng of happy students filing into the Great Hall. Charmed bats fluttered across the enchanted ceiling above, which was tonight spell bound to reflect a starry sky of midnight blue, rent with thin, pale clouds. Garlands of autumn coloured foliage were draped between the candle sconces along the wall and set in decorative rings on each of the four house tables. It looked beautiful, shades of russet, amber and scarlet everywhere.

Luna took her place at the Ravenclaw table and let the upbeat chat and laughter of her housemates float around her like the magical bats for several moments. She glanced at the top table and her guardian was there, looking solemn and slightly bored.

Then, as the last of the students took their seats, the Headmaster rose to his feet and a hush fell as he began his address.

"It's All Hallows Eve, a most revered time in the wizarding world. All the more reason not to hold up our celebration of it with long words. So a few short ones. Enjoy the food!" Dumbledore's azure eyes sparkled gaily behind his half moon spectacles and he brought his hands together once in a quck clap and suddenly, golden dishes appeared on each of the tables, laden with food.

"This is even better than I thought it would be!" Gertrude said appreciatively, eyeing the ribs in barbecue sauce, platters of corn on the cob dripping in golden melted butter, tureens of steaming soup.

However, they had barely cleared the first course when the double doors at the back of the hall opened with a bone rattling clatter. All eyes followed the noise, the conversations at every table petered out at the unexpected disturbance. Making this dramatic entrance was none other than Professor Quirrell, turban in place but askew and an expression of abject terror on his pointy face.

It looked to Luna as though his knees had turned to jelly and were no longer to be trusted in supporting him. He took several unsteady, wobbling steps into the hall and teetering, began to gesture with an outstretched arm. Puzzled, Dumbledore rose to his feet, concern bringing his white eyebrows together.

"Tr..T.. t .Tr. Troll," Quirrell's squeek was lost at first, emerging frail and tinny.

Seeing very little reaction to his announcement, apart from confusion, his throat worked to free his words.

""T..Troll. In the castle!" he sputtered, this time unmistakeably.

As chaos erupted in a swell of noise and scraping stools at his announcement, Quirrell's trembling legs gave way and he collapsed onto the stone flag floor in a heap.

By contrast, Dumbledore responded decisively, calmly but assertively. Again, he clapped, the sound somehow rising above the clamour in the hall as students got to their feet and tried to push their way to the exit.

"Stop!" he called and the movement slowed.

Students turned to look at the teachers' table, attention caught by the note of authority in that one word.

"Students will return to their dorms. Prefects, please guide your houses from the hall in an orderly fashion but do not delay," the Headmaster instructed.

The badge wearing prefects began to take charge, with Heads of Houses overseeing the exodus.

Luna saw her guardian snap out orders to the Slytherin prefects, his face set and hard, black eyes intent. Moving with haste, every step paced like a soldier in a military exercise, he swept up along side Luna.

"Go with the others to the Ravenclaw common room. Wait there and I will come get you later," his words were clipped.

Luna didn't think he had looked quite so worried since the break in at his Spinner's End home.

"Yes sir," she nodded quickly, not wanting to cause him any further concern.

But he was already gone, robes whipping in his wake.

The Ravenclaws left the Great Hall with students from the other houses, streaming into the entrance hall in an orderly exodus as each House filed towards their common rooms. Luna was walking quickly along beside Gertrude when she felt a tap on her shoulder, a bird like contact that at first she wondered if she imagined. Just the same, she looked around and into the owl like gaze of Professor Trelawney.

The Divination teacher looked even more other worldly than ever. Her bushy hair floated from her face like curls of spider web, thin fingers wringing the edges of a tassled shawl draped around her shoulders. Her lips moved but no words were audible at first.

"Professor, are you alright?" Luna asked, as the others continued on to the safety of their rooms.

"Oh yes, dear child. Though death stalks these halls tonight," the prediction warbled from her mouth and Professor Trelawney looked at a spot in the far distance, seeing something visible only to herself or her inner eye.

"It's a troll, Professor Quirrell said," Luna supplied helpfully.

The woman did not appear to hear or else decided to pretend she hadn't. She patted Luna's hand in a distracted gesture as she looked about, eyes seeking rather anxiously as though she expected the Grim of her predictions to be standing right behind her.

Had Trelawney been at the feast? She did not usually join the other teachers for meals and Luna could not remember seeing her tonight but she must have been, hadn't she just left the Great Hall with everyone else?

"What a dark fortune to befall us but the stars cannot be denied. It is lucky I saw the warning of the invasion in my tea leaves tonight or else I would never have ventured out on such a night as this," Luna's unspoken question was answered as the mystic continued on.

"Oh how right I was that danger has drawn a dagger but with so many shadows it is impossible to see who will be the tragic victim," Trelawney's eyes bounced off the retreating heads of students, though evidently did not see imminent death approaching any of them.

A bony finger shunted her thick rimmed spectacles further up on her nose. The rounded eyes filled with tears.

"All so young! I cannot be consoled!" her fingers splayed over her heart.

"It's not your fault at all, Professor," Luna said.

"Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape have gone to deal with the troll. I'm sure they will get rid of it safely," she draped a friendly arm around the trembling shoulders of the older woman.

Luna was not at all surprised to find that the roles between them had reversed a little and it was she reassuring the adult. She knew Sybil Trelawney quite well from her visits to Ottery St. Catchpole and taking charge was never her strong suit. As Luna remembered, once when her dad's broom fell in front of her, Sybil had full on hysterics, saying after much incoherent babble and fluttering that it was an omen of instantaneous death. It took ten minutes to make her calm down, only the realisation that several instants had passed and death had not yet come calling.

"Perhaps the threat diminishes if the broom is especially old," Trelawney had muttered afterwards.

Now she once again looked into Luna's face, encouraged by the hope she saw there.

"Yes, perhaps. I'm sure you are right. Yes," she nodded repeatedly.

"Umm, Professor Trelawney, I don't think we are supposed to be hanging around out in the open like this," Luna said, prompted by the quiet that was falling around them.

The last footsteps of the other students were already fading into the distance and Luna remembered that her guardian had been very clear that she was to go to her common room and stay with others.

"My dear, of course! You are right yet again. I should not be alone tonight. Not after all that I have seen. Looking into the dread depths of the inevitable does take it out of me!" Trelawney was suddenly energised and moving towards the stairs, her arm linking companionably though Luna's.

"You don't mind accompanying me? Oh I do appreciate it. You are a kind girl. And a startlingly clever one, no doubt you have your father's genes to thank for that," Trelawney waffled on as they climbed, heading in the direction of her tower quarters.

This was not what Luna had in mind at all and goodness only knew what Severus would say about it but then again, what harm could come to her as long as she was with a teacher?

"Is there any word of the dear man? You must miss him so," the owl eyes were resting on her again and Luna shook her head once sadly.

"Severus.. Professor Snape says he will not stop looking until he finds out something but it has been a long time. At least it feels like it has. I do miss him," Luna found it a relief to be able to talk about Xenophillius to someone else, someone who knew him.

And so, she reached a decision. She acquiesced and allowed herself to fall into step beside her teacher, accompanying her to her tower eyrie. She would ask Trelawney to take her back to the Ravenclaw dorm in a little bit so that Severus could pick her up there as agreed. Meanwhile, she could keep her company, it seemed to be having a calming effect on her already, having someone to talk to. Truthfully, it was nice feeling useful and being connected to something from her life before Hogwarts.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

 **DISCLAIMER - None of these delightful characters are mine, all belong to JK Rowling.**

The climb to the Divination tower was steep and Luna was slightly out of breath by the time the Professor was closing the attic door behind them. As they neared her rooms, the older woman had gathered pace quite a bit, so that they moved along the corridor at close to a jog. No doubt, she was anxious to be back in her familiar surrounds.  
"I would offer you some tea, dear but I fear the leaves will not cheer us tonight. Perhaps warm milk is the best choice," Trelawney tugged her shawl tight and looked about her.

"I know I have a pan here someplace but oh, where did I…?"

A shuffle through the cushion laden floor, several clattering moments moving tea cups from one crowded surface to another. Finally, the woman turned, clutching a copper pan by a long wooden handle.

"Ah yes, this is the thing."

As Trelawney placed the pan on the stove top, it filled with snowy white milk but Luna would have preferred to pass on the drink. It was already stifling in the room and she had only been there a few minutes. Hot drinks were the last thing she wanted but she did not have the heart to refuse.

"Do sit, my dear. It has been a while since we had a catch up," a flap of her hand vaguely in the direction of the over stuffed cushions.

Luna complied, letting her eyes roam about the room. Stars decorated the ceiling, cast in their constellations, china cups rested in delicately listing piles along shelves, little tables bore lamps shaded in draped scarves, all in colours of red and gold.

At last, the woman turned, bearing mismatched cups, both topped with foaming, steaming white froth.

"Here we are," she extended one to Luna and gave her a crooked smile.

"Thanks Professor," Luna took the cup, rested it in her lap.

"Call me Sybil, dear. We are friends are we not? And tonight, here we are, just the two of us, all is chaos without," Sybil did not sit, instead, she hovered rather restlessly close to one of the thin legged tables.

Luna was not so comfortable herself, there was the heat and something else, a smell, too indistinct to identify but unpleasant just the same. Not wanting to be impolite, she thought it best not to betray any sign she found it so. Once more, she let her eyes drift around the over furnished room. Again, they lingered on the towers of china cups.

"Your milk, are you not going to drink it?"

Luna brought her gaze back to her host, finding her large eyes peering at her quite intently. Sybil smiled encouragingly.

"Oh, yes. It looks delicious," Luna dutifully lifted the cup but was careful to give the appearance only of taking a sip.

It really was too hot to even think about taking a mouthful of scalding milk.

"You have made lots of friends I understand since you came to Hogwarts. How nice. And nice for the Potter boy to have a companion, with such dark Fates gathering around him," Sybil nodded, a soulful look on her face.

"Everyone has been so nice to me. Not a bit of trouble with shuttlers even once," Luna responded.

A puzzled look shot across the face of the teacher.

"Shuttler? Oh good, good."

Luna was about to point out that her dad and Sybil had spent an entire Saturday spelling the shuttlers out of the attic at the Ottery St. Catchpole house. She refrained, thinking that Sybil might not want to talk about her brief courtship with Xenophillius. It had ended rather abruptly, as far as she remembered.

"I suppose you have had plenty to talk about, you and the Potter lad. You have much in common, both of you losing parents so brutally," the mournful eyes were settled on Luna, carrion birds focused on prey.

Her unease kicked up to actual distaste. How could Sybil possibly know if her dad's loss was brutal or not? Luna didn't know the answer but she recoiled from the use of the word.

Sybil was shuffling again, turning her back and toying with a lamp, moving it slightly this way and that.

"Listen to me, rattling on! You've hardly said a word! I suppose your excellent work with the insightful Quibbler is at an end also?" the question was spoken with the barest curiosity.

"Well, I am compiling article ideas and leads for when dad comes back. I have found quite a few here at Hogwarts. For one thing, frobble flies are surprisingly resistant to the air here. I think it's to do with the moisture in the air from the lake," Luna chatted, trying to quell the desire to get up and hasten from this stuffy, strange room.

"Frobble?" Sybil glanced over her shoulder and this time, there was no confusion but something close to irritation in her eyes.

Luna got the feeling she had answered a question wrongly, though she could not see how.

"My dear, there are far more pertinent stories your father was working on, I am interested if you have looked at any of that?"

Now, the woman had turned to face Luna once more, her attention suddenly seeming sharper. Her eyes really were rather keen as they stared through the thick lenses.

Her guardian's voice was clear in Luna's head, clear as if he had spoken beside her. Speak to no-one of the prophesy…..

So, she gave a slight shrug.

"Dad kept much of his work to himself. I am sure he will catch it up when he comes back," she said by way of reply.

This time, Trelawney's smile was tighter.

"Your milk, dear. It will go cold if you don't drink up," she said.

Luna set the cup carefully on a table close by. She rose to her feet, managing to so slowly and as if it didn't matter at all. But the desire to leave had now become a compulsion.

"Actually, Professor Trelawney, I think I had better get to my dorm. Severus will be worried if I am not there," she said.

"Thank you for the milk and the erm.. Chat."

Before Luna had taken a step, the woman moved, effectively blocking her way to the attic door.

"No rush. You are perfectly safe here. We are just talking afterall."

This time, there was no trace of the distraction that Luna associated with Sybil. She looked over the woman's shoulder, her eyes finding the tea cups and Luna frowned a little, wondering why the sight niggled at her.

"Your dad wrote quite a bit that I would like to know more about. Perhaps you could tell me about some of it. We were good friends your father and I and I know he would not see it as breaking confidence," the smile was back.

It looked like it had been painted onto her face.

"Like I said, Professor. Dad didn't tell me a lot about some of his stories. But we can talk again another time if you would wish."

Luna made to step past the woman but Trelawney stayed solidly in place. She laid a hand on Luna's arm, a clawing grasp that made Luna feel cold, despite the oppressive heat of the attic.

"We will talk now."

The pretence that this was a friendly visit was over. Luna stepped back, freeing her arm. She looked around, realised that no one knew she was here. And it occurred to her that the piles of tea cups were at odds with Sybil's form. She kept her precious china cups painstakingly stored on the shelves, put away with loving care.

"I don't think I can help you, Professor," she said.

Trelawney's face was losing definition. It was hard to look at but Luna could not look away.

"You are a liar!"

The harsh accusation seemed to come from another person. Someone who was not Sybil Trelawney.

Luna blinked and she felt her thoughts stutter and stall in her mind. She edged away, the backs of her knees met the plump cushion she had been sitting on and Luna flopped back down on it.

Before her very eyes, Sybil Trelawney was melting, a sight that was more terrible than she could process. Her stomach churned, her breath froze. Frizzy flyaway dun curls drew in and tightened to a dark and greasy cap of hair that clung to a head that belonged to a tall, painfully thin man that was emerging from the Sybil skin.

The spectacles fell to the floor and Luna saw an earpiece crack. Skin that was sickly pale drew over a form that was rangy, a face was peering at her, defined by small, piggy eyes that looked rabid, unnatural in a human face.

"Who are you?" Luna asked.

The thin man smiled in a way that made Luna think of feral things that hunted in the shadows.

"You should have drank your milk. It would have made this easier for the both of us."

The voice was hoarse, as though untried for a long time. It was also cultured. Memory stirred in Luna, no, not actual memory, a sense was triggered.

"I think I met you before," she said.

The man inclined his head, licking his lips in an unseemly way that made Luna look away.

"Yes. You came to my room that day in my father's house. You thought I was another. We have never been properly introduced. Not that it matters. Tell me what I want to know and you can go free."

"You father? Mr. Crouch?"

Luna should have felt more surprised, she supposed. It was not every day a person got to be kidnapped by a man supposed to be dead but strangely, what she felt was revulsion, not fear. The same sense of being in the presence of something rotten and diseased that she had felt months ago in a bedroom of the Crouch's home was back, this time forceful enough to almost make her gag.

"That man is nothing to me," the man spat venomously.

"Your father, now that is what I want to talk about. His articles, his work, he had information I want and I think you can give it to me," Crouch junior said.

"Did you harm my father?"

Luna looked into his mad eyes, sounding very calm though her heart was beating so fast she thought she must be about to faint.

"Tell me what I want to know and I can take you to him if that is what you want."

Though she could not say how she knew, Luna instantly recognised the lie.

"There is nothing about Dad's work I can tell you. He wrote about yezzirs and wand rot. I don't think there's anything to that I can add," Luna said.

"Wand rot! Tosh! He was writing about Harry Potter. You can tell me about that for a start!".

Speak to no-one of the prophesy…

" Dad speculated about things. You shouldn't read too much into that, Mr. Crouch!" Luna said.

"Do not call me that! The Crouch name is filth! I serve another now!" the man almost screamed.

"He was not speculating when he wrote about the Potter boy. He knew, he knew about the prophesy!"

There it was, Luna's heart sank.

"I only saw one page, the headline about it. I have no idea where my father got his information or what it contained. Please just let me go. No one has to know about this, not your father or anyone," Luna met his eyes with her own.

"I could not care less! Word of the prophesy is already given to my master. It no longer interests me. But the Hallows, that's a different story. Your father knew about the prophesy and he knew about the Hallows. Is it coincidence that the Potter in the prophesy is here in this school and so is the cloak of the Hallows? No! No!"

Crouch's too red tongue flicked out, a serpentine circuit of his lips.

"There is a second. A second artefact is here in the school. Do not tell me your father didn't know of it! That is what I want from you, tell me about the wand and you live," the pale face dropped too close to Luna's own.

"I can give my master the cloak and the wand. There will be none he will favour above me! I have to have it!"

He reached out a hand, a skeleton like talon that had Luna scrabbling away. She did not want him to touch her again, whatever he was made of, it was foul and soul-less and made her long for clean air.

"Step away from the girl, Bartemius."

It was a lazy, droling command but a command just the same. Startled, Crouch looked over his shoulder.

Luna did not need to look, she would have known that voice from a thousand lifetimes away.

"Touch her and you die where you stand," there was no emotion in the tone, no trace of hatred.

In the eyes of |Severus Snape, though it burned behind the smooth black stare. There was murder in his face and his wand was drawn, his hand steady.

"This time, I promise you, death will take."

Crouch straightened, turned but did not move away from his quarry.

"You! The most trusted one! Disloyal traitor!" he spat.

From behind Severus a small figure moved, a round, wrinkled face appearing.

"Master Barty must stop now! He must come back with me!"

Winky wailed, the plea a desperate appeal that Crouch barely registered.

"Even you, Winky? You are on their side? Then no more! I am done with you. And I am done coaxing you, little brat! Tell me where the wand is hidden!"

With spittle spraying from his lips, Crouch turned back to Luna.

She saw Severus take aim, knew the words he was about to utter but closed her eyes, not wanting to see, clapping her hands over her ears, not wanting to hear.

There was a popping sound and then, perfect silence. Luna would have thought the killing curse would have been louder. She kept her eyes shut tight for the sight of it was more than she could bear.

There were hands on her shoulders, bringing her to her feet, there were words, she thought they were directed at her but they could not breach her pillow of darkness. Fingers tousled her hair, cradling her head in a gesture she recognised.

"Luna? It is ok. You are safe now. He's gone."

Her guardian's voice was gentle and Luna slowly lifted her eyelids, the familiar attic room drifting back into focus.

"That's it. Good girl. Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

There was an urgency in his tone that belied the Professor's tender touch.

"No. I am fine. What happened? Where is he?" Luna's eyes scanned the round room, finding it quite empty apart from herself and her dark protector.

"Gone. The elf got to him. Got him out. You don't have to worry, love. I'm here and you are safe."

Luna leaned forward and pressed herself against the comforting solidness of him.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry Severus," she said.

Shudders rippled through her and his arms closed tightly around her, holding her up even when she didn't seem to have the strength herself.

"Shhh. It's alright," he said.

"I should have done as you told me. I thought Trelawney, Professor Trelawney, I thought it was her. I'm sorry," Luna said again, her face pressed against the front of Snape's robes.

"I know and it's ok, child. I have you now," he murmured.

"You saved me. How did you know? How did you get here?" she looked up, into eyes that would have looked fierce to anyone else.

To Luna, they looked full of shock, relief and above all, kindness.

"No more questions, now. I will tell you all you want to know but later. Come with me now. I am taking you home."

"I'm really glad to see you," she breathed.

He sighed heavily.

"Not nearly as I am to see you, little Miss Lovegood!"

He picked her up, gathering her against him and suddenly, the floor seemed a long way away to Luna. She felt she should make some protest at being ferried like a child but instead she wound her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder. This was the safest place in the world and right now, that was exactly where Luna wanted to be.

He did not set her down until they reached his quarters, where he placed her on the couch as though she were made of the same china as Sybil's teacups.

"I thought you'd be telling me off. I don't even mind if you do. I walked with her…him, Severus. I just went with him. He intended to kill me."

She looked up at him and Snape's breath caught. He dropped his head, not wanting her to see what was in his eyes. Her statement was true but even to himself, it was painful to confirm it.

"I'm not going to tell you off ! By the looks of you, tether's end is not far off! Nor is it for me, Luna. I was worried out of my mind," he eased himself into his armchair, moving slowly like an old man.

"What happened is not your fault so you can stop looking so guilty. Crouch had all of us fooled," he said.

He looked at her, the expression on his face was full of regret.

"I promised you that I would keep you safe and again and again, I have failed to do so. It is I who owe you the apologies, child."

She shook her head.

"You never failed me. You are all I can truly count on, Severus. I don't understand anything that happened tonight but I know that you came and then it was all alright."

"Nothing should have happened tonight and if I had not been so preoccupied with Quirrell, I would have made sure of that," the pulse at his temple throbbed.

"It was Trelawney all the time! Or at least the Trelawney fake," she frowned to remember the awful melting features, the sickening smell.

"The school is being searched as we speak but Crouch is gone. Elves have deep magic and his helped him escape. I do not believe he will come near you again, Luna, now that his cover his blown," Snape said.

"I know that you are tired and that tonight's ordeal was not easy for you but do you think you can tell me what happened after you left the Great Hall? If you wish to take some time, that is perfectly understandable," he said.

He was not in the least surprised to see the look of resolve in the green eyes. He had come to recognise the jut of her chin, it signalled that she was readying herself to face what she must.

She told him about meeting Trelawney at the stairs, the conversation about her father, how she had found everything completely normal until things changed in the Divination classroom.

"Something just wasn't right," she said when he pressed her.

If he had not been feeling so utterly culpable, he would have marvelled once more at the accuracy of her intuition.

She talked about the jumble of teacups, the strangely intrusive interest Trelawney had shown in her father's articles and in Harry. She told him about how Crouch had emerged and his fevered demands for a special wand and Harry's cloak. And then there was his insistence that Luna drink the milk she had been given.

"It was far too hot. I couldn't drink it in that stuffy room," she wrinkled her nose.

"A good thing too. Laced with Veritas Serum. Hence the particularly foamy texture," he told her.

"There was a weird smell, not nasty but strong and sickly after a bit. Was that from the Veritas?" she asked.

Her guardian gave a shake of his head.

"That was the Polyjuice Crouch was taking to assume the form of Sybil Trelawney. Not everyone can detect the odour. Quite clever of you, young lady. Perhaps I will make a potion maker of you yet!" the fathomless eyes twinkled at her.

"That explains it. I was half wondering if Professor Trelawney truly exists or if he had invented her all the time," she bit her lip.

"Oh she exists alright. Professor Dumbledore learned only this evening that the real Sybil Trelawney has been on extended leave, an expedition to India to deepen her sense of the mystical. Paid for in full a special gift from Mrs Crouch to thank her for her insights. That was what set the alarm bells ringing but the troll incident caused sufficient disruption to delay dealing with it," Snape said.

"Mrs Crouch?" once again, Luna was finding the threads of the facts unravelling, misting the picture in her head.

"She was not at the house that day, Severus, when we went in the summer, It was her son in the room. He had the same horrible, evil air then and he had it tonight," the shudder was back and he moved to stand beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Mrs. Crouch is dead, Luna. She was ill alright and as a last act took her son's place in Azkaban. I do not have the finer details but we do know that is how he escaped. His father has been keeping him hidden with the aid of the elf. But the boy learned enough from his mother to know about the Potter prophesy. When his strength returned, he started digging around. He had the name of Sybil Trelawney and that led him to you father," Snape supplied.

"And the Hallows," she finished.

Above her he nodded.

"And the Hallows."

"What about the troll? Did Crouch have something to do with it?" Luna was still scrambling to put all of the jumbled pieces of a most dreadful night together.

"I do not think so. I think the troll did provide a welcome opportunity to get to you but that was all," the Professor explained.

"What happened? Is it gone?" she looked up at him and he gave her a strange smile.

"Well, your three friends can tell you more about that. It was Pottter, Granger and Weasley who knocked it out cold in the girls' bathrooms," he said and Luna's eyebrows shot up.

"Wow!" she whispered.

"You still haven't told me how you knew where to find, me Severus," she said, her eyes steady sey upon his face.

She settled into quiet, clearly finished with her own narrative and awaiting his instead.

"I owe that to that elf!" he ground out, looking far from grateful.

"She came to plead with me to help, saying that her master was doing something foolish and dangerous. She was terrified and finally admitted that you were with him in the Divination classroom," he said.

Delighted, Luna smiled openly.

"I knew she wasn't bad. She was trying to warn me when she came to see me that last time," she said, earning a look of the deepest irritation from the Potions Master.

"Luna! She was merely troubled to save the worthless hide of her scabrous master!" he shot.

"But she did help," she said simply and he fastened his lips, perhaps to swallow back a retort he felt best saved in light of her difficult night.

Luna frowned, thought some and tilted her head.

"Master? Crouch kept talking about his master. What did he mean by that? The Death Eaters, their master is gone, isn't he, Severus?"

"There is much about that we don't yet know. Crouch is deranged, his years in Azkaban are unlikely to have cleared his mind. Merlin knows what he believes," Snape sighed.

She was watching him as he talked and he noted her pallor, the drop of her eyes.

"You look ready to fall out of your seat, Luna. It is past time you were resting. Off with you to bed, now. It has been much too long of a night already," he said.

"Severus? Will you stay? I mean you will be here won't you?" she asked, suddenly looking very young and every inch the beleaguered child.

"I am not going anywhere," he pledged quietly and she sighed and rose to her feet.

That was good enough for her and Luna yawned widely. She would sleep now, happy in the knowledge that she was not alone and Severus was close. Just knowing that felt like being surrounded by warm light and favourite things. It was a beautiful feeling.

.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

 **DISCLAIMER - None of these delightful characters are mine, all belong to JK Rowling.**

 **And so, here we are, the penultimate chapter!**

Morning light streaming through her bedroom window, clear and thin did little to make the events of the previous night seem any less bizarre and distasteful to Luna. She sat up in her bed and at her feet, Galahad purred and regarded her with his amber eyes. Severus did not usually permit her to have the cat in her bedroom but had made an exception last night.

Her guardian was at his customary place at the table when she went for breakfast. He was solicitous and kind but seemed sort of restrained, coiled. He did not succeed in hiding from her the fury that blazed behind the guarded expression he wore.

He informed her that the Headmaster would be visiting and sure enough, barely had they finished the meal than Dumbledore flooed into the livingroom. He stepped out from hearth, clad in robes of garnet and indigo. He adjusted his silver spectacles on his crooked nose and smiled benevolently at his Master of Potions and Luna.

"Good morning Luna, Severus. I trust I have not disturbed your meal," he said graciously.

Snape rose to his feet, shook his head once.

"Headmaster. Word of Crouch?"

The clipped tone was further proof to Luna's ears that the Professor was holding back a scalding flare of anger, caged behind short temper and intense focus.

"Alas, no. Searches of the school have revealed no trace. I have informed the Azkaban guards but as far as they are concerned, the balance has not shifted. One was sentenced. The sentence was completed. One wretched soul is much the same to them as another," Dumbledore wrinkled face looked as grim as Luna had ever seen it.

"Luna, you were very brave last evening. It takes quite some fortitude to maintain calm in the face of such uncertainty," his eyes sparkled warmly at his young student.

Luna gave him an answering smile but her eyes flickered to her guardian, standing stiffly and looking far from appeased.

"However, there is some news. The real Sybil Trelawney returns to the school this afternoon. The dear woman is safe and well. She was most distressed that her owl outlining the plans for her trip and absence at the start of term never reached me. She has been quite in the dark about the rather sinister turn of events here," the older wizard supplied.

"How admirable this latest proof of that far reaching sight!" Snape's undertone brought the sharp blue eyes to him.

Dumbledore said nothing and the Potions Master did not push further but he had made his point.

"Luna, though I regret intruding, I must ask for your account of last night's events," the Headmaster said.

So, she recounted once more the encounter with the Sybil imposter, lifting her face to bestow a look of the deepest gratitude on Snape as she spoke of his arrival.

Snowy eyebrows came together and Dumbledore looked at her keenly.

"Young Mr. Crouch asked you about Harry's cloak and a wand, Luna?" he asked.

Luna caught the way the Headmaster's eyes lifted to her guardian's over her head as she nodded and repeated Crouch's frenzied ramble. This was a significant detail then, but neither man offered any explanation. Instead Severus lowered his cloaked eyes to hers.

"At least we have solved the mystery of how that elf was getting in to the castle. Crouch was her way in. She was supposed to be watching over him and he needed to keep her from his father or else Crouch Senior would know his whereabouts," he said.

"Poor Winky," Luna imagined the little creature's fear and desperation and it made her heart feel heavy.

Predictably, Severus' lip curled and his face was empty of an answering sympathy.

"When Professor Trelawney returns I would like to be informed. I think we could use a little chat," he said and Dumbledore dipped his head.

"Of course, Severus."

He stepped back to the hearth.

"I will let you know immediately."

Bright colours mingled, a noise like dry autumn breezes chasing leaves and he was gone.

In the lingering silence, Severus looked down at the blonde head of his young charge. So much for one so tiny to absorb, he thought, tumult upon tumult. She was unsure of herself now, sensing his own sour mood. The weight of guilt at what had been visited upon her, how ineffective he had been at preventing it pressed heavily on him. It stirred impulses that were almost second nature to him, fierce and bloodthirsty.

She perceived it and that made him feel bad too. So he deliberately brought a lighter expression to his face.

"I think some time with your friends is well deserved, young lady. I am sure Mr. Longbottom would like evidence of his own eyes to reassure him I haven't stunned you and stowed you in my dungeons!"

"And speaking of friends, I think that the coast is clear now and it is safe for you to return to the Ravenclaw dorm whenever you are ready," he added.

She looked cheered and her smile was bright this time.

"We can still have supper in the week?"

He nodded.

"I'm not evicting you like a bad tenant, silly child! Come and go as you please," his own smile had genuine amusement this time.

Though Luna's mind still felt clouded with too many thoughts, she was reassured to see Severus smile at her. So he wasn't entertaining thoughts of wringing her neck or hexing her into the middle of next week. She decided to find Neville as he suggested and Gertrude would be delighted that she was moving back to Ravenclaw.

He watched her skip out of his door and she looked like a very small girl going into a very big world. Snape shook his head as though trying to physically evacuate whimsical ideas. It may well be no thanks to him but Crouch was long gone and Luna was safe. Time for her to be a student enjoying school and for him to be a Professor again.

He would talk with Trelawney, find out what, if anything she knew about the Crouch family secrets and then he would have to find a way to put his own wretched sense of his shortcomings to one side. The child deserved a guardian who could allow her a childhood. It was the very least she was owed.

By early afternoon he was once again in the claustrophobic cloister of the Divination tower. Surrounded by the muted light of the shaded lamps, the clutter of the soft cushions, the Head of Slytherin cut a commanding figure, looking almost solid in his robes of deepest black. Sybil Trelawney fluttered about the room, unused to company in her solitary domain and uncomfortable at the waves of tension that flowed from her guest.

"Severus, it has come as a great shock," she shook her head, beads strewn around her neck making a dull rattle.

"Mrs Crouch was one of my most loyal clients. Very respectful of the whims of Fate. My word was her guide. I have never been so confused," she confessed.

It was a measure of Snape's control that he managed to stop himself rolling his eyes.

"The inner eye sees far and much but the deceit of a confidante, clouds upon the very sensitive orb. Such treachery skewed even the Sight," her wispy, sing song lilt went on and on.

"So you noticed no difference in Mrs. Crouch?" he interrupted her warbling tale.

"None," she admitted.

"So we cannot be sure of how long Crouch Junior was existing out of Azkaban. He let people like you see him in the guise of his mother, thanks to the polygenic, just enough to ensure no-one suspected a thing," Snape surmised.

"I truly believed Mrs. Crouch gave me that ticket as a show of her friendship and gratitude. Oh if I had paid more attention to the ides, I may have found out!" Sybil wrang her bony hands, looked skywards as though looking for the faulty omen bearer.

"It was Bartemius. A convenient way of getting you out of the way and securing a foolproof ticket to this school," Severus ground out.

He was sorely tempted to point out that it was not the ides she should have been paying heed to but he held the sharp words in check. Instead, he issued a curt thanks to his scarf clad colleague an turned to take his leave.

"I knew poor dear Xenophillus had a heavy heart. Little did I know the sinister forces that besieged him!"

The whispery lament stilled Snape's retreating steps. He looked back, brows drawn together, his attention fully alert.

"Lovegood? You have seen him?"

Caught by the urgency in his tone, Sybil pushed her rounded glasses higher on her nose and dipped her head in a nod.

Feeling his fingers curl from the force of his desire to grab the woman and shake the answers he wanted out of her, Severus bore down on her, a torrent of impatient exigency.

"He is alive?"

"Of course, Severus."

"Might you be interested in telling me where he is?" Snape's jaw clenched.

"He was driven from his home, forced to protect dear Luna from an enemy seeking a secret he knew he had to safeguard. He port keyed to me while I was on my little sabbatical. A hurried and rather frantic visit. He gave me this to pass to Luna and swore me to absolute secrecy about seeing him," Sybil said, extending a hand that trembled quite a bit, clutching a small scrolled parchment is her fingers.

Snape took it, holding the small scroll in his fingers. Then, he pocketed it and without a word, turned and swept from the tower.

Luna was sitting on the edge of a fountain in the courtyard, her Ravenclaw friend beside her, both giggling as they transfigured little bits of coloured parchment into little flying birds. The Gormley girl's smile dimmed as she caught sight of swiftly moving form of the Head of Slytherin approaching.

Luna looked up and gave him an inquisitive look.

"Professor Snape. Sir, is something wrong?"

She caught the expression on his face and concern clouded the viridian eyes.

"No. But I would like to talk with you. If you would excuse Miss Lovegood?" he turned to address Gertrude, polite words little disguising that she really did not have a choice.

But Gertrude was already on her feet, stuffing the little parchment pieces into her pocket.

"Yes, Sir. Uh catch you later, Luna."

Gone as though her feet couldn't carry her fast enough, Gertrude's retreat had Luna looking into his face, waiting though she knew that something serious had happened. He had not yet spoken a word, something told her the world was already shifting

"Come, child, I have something you need to see," he led her to his quarters, not speaking further.

Luna' heartbeat kicked up several notches. In her experience, when adults struggled at saying what was on their minds, nothing good came of it.

He held his hand out to her, a roll of sealed parchment sitting on his palm.

"It is from your father," he said but Luna had already recognised the writing. The quickening of her heartbeat suddenly threatened to turn to actual pain.

She stared, making no move to take it from him.

"You found him," the words didn't sound like her own. The voice didn't sound like her own.

"Not exactly. Sybil Trelawney was given this note to pass to you. She told me your father spoke with her in India."

Snape watched her staring at the note as though waiting for it to ignite in his hand. He saw the warring emotions play on her face, the desire to see what it contained, fear that it was not what she wanted it to be.

"Would you like some privacy, Luna?"

She looked into his eyes.

"No. It's just so unexpected."

At last, she lifted the scroll, turned it over, reverentially broke the seal.

He turned and walked to the mantle, giving her a little space as she unrolled it, letting her eyes scan down the writing.

He looked into the empty grate of the fireplace, wondered why the man had sent this scant communication through another party, after waiting for so long. Was it so easy for him to forget that he had an eleven years old daughter? That she might need more from him to help her face the world than a few lines in a hastily scribbled note?

Several moments' of silence and he could bear it no longer, he turned to see her face, hoping for clues to her reaction there. Predictably, Luna's expression was unperturbed. She let her eyes rest on the words before her a few beats longer and then she extended it to him.

Snape read it, his eyes scanning the content in a second, his mind taking a little longer to process what it meant.

"Being in hiding is better than being dead," Luna said.

He heard the disappointment she was disguising with bracing words. Lovegood was not returning, at least not while Bartemius Crouch remained at large. Of the second part of the letter, neither made reference.

Snape wanted to speak words of comfort, words that would soothe the feelings he knew she was valiantly making light of but he had no gift for solace.

Instead he placed a hand on her shoulder, resting it there briefly as he returned the parchment. Then, he returned to stand stiffly before the hearth, retreating in his mind also to search for the right thing to say.

"Aunt Lorenza is not really my aunt. She was married to my great uncle but he died," Luna said into his silence.

To Luna, even the name sounded old and forgotten and somewhat dusty, like old clothes stored in the attic. She had not thought of Aunt Lorenza in many years, the memory of her faint and dim and devoid of warmth. Luna barely remembered Lorenza, as she could recall, there was a family gathering, a rare event in the disjointed Lovegood clan. Luna had been very young but the fierce old woman in a long black dress stayed at the edge of the memory. A harsh laugh, a long, gnarled stick of shiny ebony, hurtful words.

" _Take those daft looking things off your head, girl! You look like a crazed duck!_ _"_

Luna remembered her saying that, had never forgotten the pang of humiliation that she had felt upon hearing them although she had not known why. She had been wearing the coronet of dove feathers that had belonged to her mother. Luna had loved that garland, the feathers were the purest white and so soft and interwoven with pearls of the palest shade of pink. Wearing it had made Luna feel very grown up and elegant until her aunt had spoken and laughed that ugly laugh.

"She makes no objection to you moving in with her, though. Your father states he had spoken with her and he seems certain that the arrangement is safe and to his satisfaction," her guardian's summary was accurate and betrayed nothing of his thoughts.

The letter had stirred a curious mixture of feelings in Luna. There was relief that her dad was alive but disappointment that he was not coming back. For months now, Luna had longed for word of him, any scrap of information would have driven back the fear and doubt and worry. Yet now, there was this letter and instead of delivering the expected peace of mind, it seemed to heighten her loneliness.

And then there was Aunt Lorenza. Her father wanted her to go to live with that sour and unrelenting old woman! How could that be? Severus was the best friend she had ever made, he had given her a second home, for home it was to Luna now and she was supposed to leave? She let the parchment fall to the table, did not look at it again after it had slipped from her fingers.

"She lives in Brighton but I have never been to her house," Luna said.

"I am sorry, Luna."

She nodded and turned away. She went to her room, closing the door quietly behind her and lowered herself onto her bed. She no longer wished to return to her friends. She really wanted to be alone. Severus had not said she could stay here. Somehow she thought he would dismiss the suggestion that she would be bundled off to Brighton but he was completely accepting of the .

new arrangement. Nor had he asked what she thought of it.

A small voice inside her head mocked her for being so babyish. Why should he ask what she thought? It did not matter, not to Severus, not to her father, not to anyone. A decision had been made and that was that. No doubt the Professor would be relieved to have a responsibility he had never sought lifted from him. Of course he would be. He had gone far above the call of duty for her and now, he could go back to his life with a clear conscience.

Come Christmas, she would be on her way to Brighton and in the meantime, she would go back to the Ravenclaw dorm. He wasn't throwing her out, just as he had said. He did not have to afterall.

Luna lay down, rolled on her side, studied the wall by her bed. When a quick tap sounded at her door, she stayed quiet and when she heard it open, she still did not turn around. When the Professor called out softly, she pretended she was sleeping. He waited and then she heard the door close with a soft thunk,

Severus paced back up the hallway, a scowl on his face. He knew he had handled that poorly, Luna had reeled before his eyes as though from a body blow. He should have been prepared with some reassurance for her. The truth was, he felt he had been dealt a blow himself.

One thing was for sure, there were no circumstances under which he would allow the child to leave his care without knowing more about the person to whom she was entrusted. He exited his quarters, bound for the Headmaster's office, resolved to informing him of the development and of his intent to portkey to Brighton first thing the following morning.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

 **DISCLAIMER - None of these delightful characters are mine, all belong to JK Rowling.**

 **And so, here we are, the final chapter! Thanks to everyone who read my story, who reviewed, who followed and favourited. I am so very grateful to all of you**

The Head of Slytherin set a high standard when it came to austerity of manner but even by his own stellar benchmark, Lorenza Lovegood was a fearsome figure. Dressed in layers of black crimpoline, she resembled a raven, complete with a beak-like nose and eyes of jet. Her skeletally thin face bore no sign of a welcoming smile as she let him in to her single storey, spotless house. A Spartan lawn reached in a perfect square to the iron rail fence at the front, no ornamentation of any kind disturbing the linear look. No rose bushes, no shrubbery, no frills of any kind.

Inside, the minimalist theme continued. No frilly curtains, no decorative ornaments, everything from the cast iron skillet to the heavy oak furnishings was designed with function in mind.

"You are the Professor from Hogwarts, then. Have you brought anything I need to sign?" the beady anthracite eyes gleamed impatiently at him.

No invitation to sit, no offer of refreshment. In another circumstance, he might have admired this dowager of a woman.

"No."

He returned her level gaze with a cool study of his own.

"You want to make sure that I am up to the job of bringing up an adolescent witch. You need not concern yourself. The girl will be given a decent, respectable home here," the woman's words seemed to be cut by her teeth as they emerged from her mouth.

"Yes. I imagine so. Luna will continue her education at Hogwarts?" he lifted one sleek eyebrow.

"Assuredly. There is nothing worse than a dunce of a girl. Education, discipline, essential to building good character and if my nephew is as I remember him, he will not have bothered instilling much of either into her!"

A disparaging humph escaped the pale lips and the woman gave a quick tap of her walking stick. The sound was sharp against the parquet tiles of her living room floor.

"Here, the girl can make herself useful. I like a clean house and cannot abide mindless twaddle. Idle hands are the devil's helpers. The girl will have good, honest values and good honest work to keep her head clear of the rot and tosh her father has been teaching her," Lorenza clasped her hands on top of the walking stick, a claw like grasp that made even Snape feel cold.

"You are a woman who knows her own mind," Snape said.

"More than can be said for my twit of a nephew. No wonder he landed himself on the wrong side of trouble. It comes as no surprise to me! I am only taken aback he was not carted off to St. Mungo's! Well, I see it as my sacred duty to keep the girl off that road to nowhere. She will not be indulged in foolish beliefs here. She will not be cosseted. There will be structure and practical common sense. Not a day before time, I should say."

Snape listened and stepped towards the door.

"You have made yourself clear, Madame Lovegood. Thank you for your time," he nodded once and let her open the door to admit back into the salt laden seaside air outside.

The umbrella Hagrid had lent him to use as a portkey lay against the exterior wall. The old woman, standing inside the doorway cast a long look down her pointy nose at the pink object, the way she might if she found the carcass of dead whale on her lawn. Her gaze flickered to Severus and she made no attempt to hide her distaste. She looked rather like she had discovered he was in fact a travelling clown posing as a master of a leading school.

Getting the impression that he had but seconds before she set to clearing his head of rot and tosh Snape stepped from the house.

"Good day, Madame."

Her look of disdain was still firmly in place as he grasped the umbrella and vanished from her sight.

Back in the familiar surroundings of Dumbledore's office, with its homey ambiance, Severus stood stock still and related that Madame Lovegood was indeed prepared to take the girl and the home offered was more than adequate, perfectly stable, the woman seemed to fully grasp the responsibilities she was undertaking.

"You make no objection, then?" Dumbledore regarded him above the glinting spectacles.

"I can find no fault with the proposition.

"And yet?"

"The woman is, shall we say, unyielding," Snape supplied.

It troubled him that he had not once heard Madame Lovegood refer to Luna by name.

"But it is immaterial. Luna will be with a relative, she will have a good, steady home and that is as it should be."

"If everything was as it should be, I dare say the world would be a rather drab place," Dumbledore's blue eyes were steady on the darker gaze of his colleague.

"None-the-less. The matter is out of my hands," Severus intoned, his face carved in hard lines.

"We are seldom alone by choice," Dumbledore repeated a phrase Snape recalled from many months ago.

His face darkened now as it had then.

"You are aware that my duties extend beyond rehoming fatherless urchins here! You are well aware also that events recently in the Forest are far from encouraging. That dark magic is involved is beyond doubt. Luna's placement with her aunt is timely. That is an end to the matter," Severus' step against the stone floor tapped out a rapid and rather brutal rhythm as he descended the Headmaster's tower.

Merlin's curse upon that air headed Lovegood and his mean spirited, wicked tongued aunt! Of course he did not have a choice! The girl had a living relative, wretched though she be and placing Luna with her would not be the easy choice but the right one. What protection had he succeeded in offering? She had almost died and not just once. Crouch had gotten into this castle under his very nose and but for the sleight of fortune, he would have hurt Luna. Then there was Quirrell. Whatever he was up to, there was more to him than he pretended with his snivelling, stammering front.

This was the way. It was time to stand aside. Certainly Crouch was nowhere safe from him and one day, Snape would send him back to rot in Azkaban. Dumbledore was wrong, sometimes, choosing to be alone was the only option you had left.

By the end of the weekend, Luna had repacked most of her things and they were moved to the Ravenclaw dorm. In her way, she made no fuss, presented an accepting and accommodating demeanour as she made her preparations. She spoke nothing of Brighton or her aunt. The note from her father had vanished. Severus knew that she was confused and nervous, little wonder, cast at sea once more.

"I thought that you would be breaking down the door to get back to your House. Your imprisonment here is over at last!" his eyes twinkled from over the top of the book he was reading.

"It wasn't prison!" clear eyes lifted from the page she herself was reading.

"That was not how you felt a few weeks ago!" his lips twitched.

She blushed and glanced away.

"Well, I may have over-reacted!"

"I hardly noticed!" he chuckled and reached to ruffle her hair, a soft and affectionate gesture that drew a smile.

"It will be okay. I would not permit you to go if I was not absolutely certain of that," he laid his book down, met her eyes with an earnest gaze of his own.

"I know."

He was no longer talking about Ravenclaw. It made her heart feel too heavy to carry within her chest to think about the other move, so she turned her mind from imagining it. There was nothing she could do about it but at least for now, she could ignore the unpleasant prospect.

What she would not do was betray just how much she hated the very idea of it. She would not ask to stay. Severus had already done so much for her that to impose further, especially now when he had a resolution at hand would be unfair. And truthfully, she could not bear to make him have to tell her to go. Leave she must and so, being gracious about it was the only thing to do.

There were days of lessons, the temperatures dropped outside and one morning, the grass looked like it had been coated with icing sugar when Luna looked outside. Plumes of fog puffed in front of people as they walked in the grounds and inside, crackling fires lit up the blackened chimney of the hearth in the Ravenclaw dorm each evening.

True to his word, Severus treated Luna to supper in his quarters a couple of evenings in the week. They talked about magic and school, the books they were reading, the quirky abstracts that Luna loved. The subject of Brighton was firmly off topic and both seemed happy to stay clear of it. A veneer of normalcy had returned but it was a thin one, neither Snape nor Luna wished to have it pierced.

Sometimes, Severus found himself on the very cusp of telling her that the move was off, that her home was with him and this was where she would stay until her father returned. He was coming to dread the day when she would leave. Even thinking of it made him feel heartless, that he was somehow letting her down. Except that he was not, he was doing what was unquestionably best for her. It was that certainty that silenced him every time the words rose in his throat to cancel the Brighton arrangement. Maudlin selfishness had no place in his life.

If he was even more ascerbic in his classes than usual, then it was only the fault of those students who seemed even more dimwitted than ever. If his already scant free time was consumed with research, potions to mix, papers to grade, well term time was always busy at this time of year. Certainly, it was not frustration and regret that shortened his temper, surely it was not that the quiet hours opened his mind to thoughts he could no longer bear to dwell upon.

Two days before Christmas, Lorenza Lovegood arrived at Hogwarts, dressed in the same floor length black skirts as Snape recalled from his visit to Brighton. This time, she had added a cape of black velvet and a bonnet, beneath which her hair was scraped from her face, no doubt pinned in the same tight bun at the base of her skull.

Welcomed to Dumbledore's office, she brushed aside the niceties, exactly as she had done when Snape went to call on her.

"Headmaster, the trip here has taken quite a bit of my time. I will not waste yours," the words emerged, clipped as always, invisible points on every syllable.

"Please see to it the girl's things are packed and sent to my house. I have made her travel arrangements and she will be picked up by me on Christmas Eve at the station in Brighton," the bird like hand extended a small fold of parchment, containing the afore-mentioned travel details, Snape surmised.

He stood, a silent witness at the door of the office, dressed in a mirror image of Ms. Lovegood's black attire, mood equally dour.

"In addition, I have included a list of the things she may take. I will not allow that idiot publication of my nephew's or anything associated with it under my roof."

"Thank you, Miss Lovegood. I am sorry to hear that you have been inconvenienced. I will have Luna fetched immediately. I am sure you have much to discuss," Dumbledore had remained standing in the company of his guest.

She raised a long, lean hand.

"Hardly. I do not have time for family reunions, Headmaster. My business here is at an end. The girl I will see in Brighton."

A rustle of her skirts and she was at the door. A hand rested on the handle of the glistening cane.

"I don't suppose my nephew bothered with the fine details such as how long he envisions extending his time away?"

"Alas, no. Mr Crouch junior remains at large and his interest in Xenophillus is most probably as keen as ever," Dumbledore replied.

Her nose wrinkled and the cane rapped once against the floor.

"I see. That is all. Good day Headmaster, Professor Snape."

Leaving only a faint peppermint fragrance in her wake, the woman was gone.

"Quite possibly the only person alive that can make Lovegood seem like the normal one in that family," Snape drawled.

"She does have a way about her that may take a bit of adjustment," Dumbledore allowed more subtly.

"I will take Luna to Brighton myself. She should not have to travel alone on Christmas Eve," Snape also reached for the handle of the door.

"Indeed not." the older wizard inclined his head in agreement, the lines on his aged face making him look careworn.

Thoughts that felt coated in acid swirled in Snape's head as he descended the steps to his dungeon office. How was he to prepare Luna for this, how had the weeks gone by so fast that suddenly her leaving was upon him?

The Lovegood woman was as cold as a night in the Arctic. That an imaginative, gentle child such as Luna should be left in her care was unfair and bleak. What had the girl done to deserve this?

His head hurt from the weight of heavy thoughts, a dark expression clouded his face, making him look fierce and slightly dangerous. His steps beat a swift staccato on the granite beneath his feet and he was almost at the door of his office before he heard the fall of feet rushing in his wake. He turned and a shorter, solid form almost collided with him.

Neville Longbottom brought himself to a skidding halt a millisecond before hurtling into the Potions Master.

Looking up into the merciless face that loomed above him, Neville felt his throat close. His heart thundered, not only because of the speed with which he had descended the stairs but because of the fear that rose like a chill from inside his chest.

"Is there a reason you are galloping around this castle like a creature demented?"

Snape's question was impatiently spoken and he did not look like the answer would deter him from detracting a bucket load of points from Gryffindor for this infraction.

"It's Luna, Sir. I think you need to come see," Neville gasped and suddenly, he had his teacher's fullest attention.

Snape grasped his arm, a grip that was near painful. He spun the boy fast enough so he stumbled but he held him steady and forced him back up the steps.

"What has happened? he demanded.

Climbing faster than his feet could really manage, Neville could hardly speak for trying to stay upright.

"I d-d-don't know. She's a bit upset, I think," Neville wheezed.

"Where is she?" Snape said between clenched teeth, stopping long enough to shake the boy, his hold on him tightening.

Neville winced.

"In Hagrid's house. I am taking you there!" he gasped.

Snape let him go and brushed past him.

"I know where Hagrid lives, boy!"

Snape crossed the lawn briskly. The whomping willow stood gaunt and stripped of its leaves, the grass was damp beneath his rapidly moving feet. Behind him, lights twinkled behind the mullioned glass of the castle windows. He noticed none of these things. He was a shadowy, wrathful figure, cutting a direct passage across the grounds, the thatched, squat structure of the gamekeeper's cottage firmly in his sights.

Without knocking, he pushed his way through the door of the single roomed dwelling and was greeted by the hulking form of the Keeper of the Keys, whose back was turned as he stooped over his blazing fire. The Deputy Headmistress stood still in the middle of the room, her hands clasped in front of her, her eyebrows knitted together in uncertainty.

The arrival of the frowning, grave faced Potions Master did little to alleviate her concern. In a fraction of a second, he had taken in the scene before him and then, the sound of muffled sobs reached his ears. Momentarily, he thought they were being emitted from one of Hagrid's beloved creatures and he gave them no further consequence.

"I am looking for Luna. Longbottom tells me she is here."

Hagrid straightened and turned to look at him, a doleful look on his face. His eyes darted to the corner of the room and he shifted his feet.

"Aye. Yes. Professor, she's here alrigh'" he said in the most unconvincing effort at sounding breezy and unaffected Snape had heard in a long while.

Minerva stepped forward, placed a hand on his shoulder and drew him back towards the door.

"She's distraught, Severus. Hagrid sent for me and said that she just broke down in floods of tears in the middle of afternoon tea. I have not been able to get a word of sense out of her. Has something happened?" the sharp eyes gave him a searing look.

In other words, had he caused this situation?

"That, Minerva is what I am here to find out!" he intoned, impatience tingling.

"Severus, you are certain that nothing you said or did may have brought this on? I know that you are not one to tolerate childish high jinks. Could you have been too strict with her?"

"Strict with her? She has had me running around after her these past months like her private staff! I have tennis raquets with feathers on them for home décor, hare-brained house elves turning up at will and a cat who uses my furniture as a doormat. And through all of that, I took her over my knee once. Just once," Severus growled.

"Which led to buying her a new dress and waving her off to the Gryffindor Halloween party just because I felt guilty over it! If that is being strict, I should be glad to curtail it!" he rolled his eyes.

Looking abashed, Minerva glanced back at the chair before the fire.

"Well, something has truly upset her. She's been crying her heart out but we cannot make out what got her into this state," there was a look of genuine worry on the Head of Gryffindor's firmly set face.

Snape's brows drew together rather violently.

"Luna does not cry!" he said, taken aback.

He had only seen her shed tears once in the time she had lived under his roof. Nothing that happened this turbulent year had brought so much as a sniffle from the girl.

"I assure you, she does now," the withering tone had him looking back into the smoky, dimly lit room.

He followed the sounds he had heard as he came in and sure enough, there was the top of a blonde head, a small form huddled in Hagrid's behemoth of an armchair. Made to look tiny by the large frame of the chair, Luna's face was buried in the crook of her arm which rested on top of her drawn up knees.

The sight of her looking dwarfed caused Snape's heart to lurch, though the expression on his face did not soften. The sound of sheer distress he heard from her had him automatically reaching out a hand, which he laid gently atop the fair tresses.

He leaned down so that he was at her level.

"Luna. It's Severus. I am here, child," he whispered.

Her only acknowledgement was to press her face against the front of his robes.

At that moment, Neville Longbottom huffed into the cabin, his face reddened from the exertions of hastening in Snape's wake.

The Potions Master looked up and a flash of anger lit the coal eyes.

"What have you done, boy?" he grated, making Neville's colour drain like water poured from a kettle.

"Neville didn't do anything, Sir. It's not his fault. Can we go ho.. I should go," Luna sobbed and Snape's attention turned back to her, Neville all but forgotten.

He still could not see her face and her words were half smothered in his waistcoat but he had caught the drift.

He wanted to ask her what was wrong, where this turmoil had come from but knew it would have to wait.

"Of course, Luna. Come with me," he said with a calmness he did not feel.

She stood up and stayed clamped against him, one hand clenching a fistful of his cloak.

"Thanks Hagrid. I am sorry for spoiling your tea," she hiccupped and the Gamekeeper patted her shoulder with a huge hand, making her stagger a little.

"Not at all, Luna. You've been through it. Had to catch up with yer. You'll be alright, now, you'll see," the giant man's bearded face lit with a kind smile.

Outside, in the cool air of deep winter, Snape set a slower pace to match his young ward's. He did not speak, he silenced the questions that swarmed to the front of his mind, with some difficulty, he quelled the rising worry that made his chest feel tight.

He heard the little noises she made as she fought to bring the tears under control.

"I am sorry. I am sorry for being a bother. I'm fine, really," she said jerkily.

"You are not being a bother and you are not fine. There is no need to put a front up for me, child. There is nothing to be embarrassed about," he said softly.

He led her to his quarters, sat her on the couch and reached into his pocket to find the crisp square of linen. Luna took the hanky but rather than dry her tears, she clasped it in her fingers, wringing it in her hands and drawing in shaking breaths.

"Tell me what is wrong, Luna. I want to help but unless you tell me about it, I don't know what to do."

What charm was in female tears that they made a man feel so utterly helpless, he wondered.

"You can't help, Severus. There's nothing to be done and I should not fuss. It's just that…," she paused, took a deep, ragged breath and a single tear coursed down her cheek.

He eased himself onto the couch beside her, drew her against his shoulder.

"Go on. I can listen, love. I can do that."

For long seconds, she sobbed, his shirt grew damp from the volume of tears but he held her to him, letting her cry and waiting until she was ready to talk. This was unbroken ground for Snape, crying girls were an alien species but his only thought was to take this hurt from Luna. He was prepared to do whatever was needed to fix this and make it better for her.

"Does this have anything to do with your father's note?" he asked quietly.

Her shoulders shook but she issued no denial.

Leaning into his warmth, Luna breathed in scent of spice, dry leaves, new parchment that clung to his robes. It was a smell that she could only associate with her guardian and it was comforting on a primal level that conversation could not reach.

Gradually, the tears slowed, the sobs turned to hiccups though Luna's eyes burned and her throat felt scratched raw.

"She was here, wasn't she? Aunt Lorenza? Do I have to go already?" she asked in a hoarse and plaintive whisper.

Guilt closed its cold, steely claws around Snape's heart.

"Yes, Lorenza was here but no, you do not have to go yet. She came to arrange for you to join her Christmas Eve," he said evenly.

"Remember when you said that friends stay friends no matter where they are. That is really true, isn't it Severus?" she murmured.

"Yes it is true. You have my word that I will not stop being your friend while you stay with your aunt. And if you need me, you may send an owl or firecall me anytime at all," he said.

"Is that what upset you?"

"I went to Hagrid's for tea with Neville. He mentioned that he had shown my aunt to Professor Dumbledore's office and I thought...," words melted into another shuddering sob.

"I thought that she was here for me and I wasn't ready. Not yet. I haven't even given you..." she bit her lip, silencing the stream.

His arm rested around the quaking shoulders and he gave her a bracing little squeeze.

"It is only for the holidays, Luna. Before you know it, you will be back here," he told her.

"Oh I know that. Silly really to get so worked up over it. Sort of caught me by surprise, that's what," she said with a far from convinving lightness in her tone.

"Surprises are over-rated," he said.

A flick of his wand and a foaming jug of butterbeer appeared on the stand beside the couch. He dropped a feather light kiss on the top of her head.

"And if your aunt gives you any trouble, well I can always send her a nice troop of garden gnomes to spread some Christmas cheer. The Weasleys are always looking for a good home for their more wayward ones!"

The lame joke was rewarded when she gave a snorting laugh.

She was soon sipping the butterbeer, the tears stopped. He would have marvelled at how easily the burdens of childhood could be lifted but he knew that Luna was far from happy. She had gotten her emotions back under control but in her eyes he saw the ghosts of worry and doubt lurking still. The weight of remorse pressed even more heavily upon him, gathering weight over the next day. Somehow, the sight of the giant trees decorated enchanted fairies twinkling in the Great Hall, the garlands of pine and ivy that Hagrid had strewn everywhere, they contrived to make his mood more opressive than ever.

Christmas Eve arrived to find him sequestered in his office from first light, pouring over student parchments and meticulously writing out lists of ingredients for complicated potions he had not made in twenty years or more. He told himself that it was necessary work, long overdue. The man who could deceieve anyone he met was not so adept at lying to himself and by nine in the morning, he was standing at the chime window high in the castle's clock tower, hands clasped behind his back.

Below him, the grounds were swathed in a fluffy blanket of snow and students were tumbling about, tossing snowballs and laughing happily, breaths fogging before their faces. It was a festive and cheerful sight and his lip curled to look upon it, his mood as dark as the cloak he wore.

By early afternoon, he was in his private quarters, waiting on Luna who was packing in her dorm for the Brighton trip. At half past mid-day, on the dot, she was opening the front door, her tiny, carpet bag clutched in her hand.

He rose an eyebrow at the sight.

"Is that all you are taking?" he asked.

"A few changes of clothes. My books. I won't need anything else and I don't think Aunt Lorenza will like it if I take my failt and frytacks. She doesn't really see the point of them," Luna supplied.

She dropped the bag at her feet, rummaged in her pocket and held out her hand.

In her fingers, she held a small rectangle, wrapped in silver paper that was tied with a ribbon of interwoven pine needles.

He frowned and looked from the parcel to his ward.

"It's for you. Your Christmas present. I thought I ought to give it to you now. I won't be... I might forget later," she said, seeing him make no move to take it from her.

"Luna. There really is no need," he said gruffly, opening the ribbon and letting the paper fall open like bird wings on his palm.

Snape had not really expected an exchange of gifts, it was a long time since he had shared in that yuletime tradition. He could not have guessed what her present to him would be but if he had given it any thought, he might have supposed another of her home made charms. Never in a million years would he have dreamed of the object that lay on his palm. In surprise, he looked at her, seeing her wistful little smile.

"Luna!" he gasped but her smile was faltering a little at the scowl that had drawn his brows into a sharp v.

"Don't you like it? It's ok if you don't...," she said uncertainly.

He looked again at the silver clasp. It looked fine enough to be woven from gossamer, two solid circles joined with a half moon central bar. He looked more closely and saw the initials ' _SS'_ engraved there. This was its only adornment. Simple, minimalist and very tasteful, it would be something he would have chosen for himself if he was in the habit of selecting elegant cloak fasteners.

"This is quite stunning. However did you get this?"

Beaming now, she clasped her hands.

"Oh, I ordered it from an ad I saw in Hermione Granger's Daily Prophet, weeks ago! I was a bit scared it might not arrive in time for Christmas!" she grinned.

"I am impressed but it must have cost you. It's too much, child," his eyes were soft looking into her happy face.

"Just a few weeks' pocket money. I earned it doing a few odd jobs for Hagrid. It's not as if I needed the money for anything else, Severus. You have given me everything I need," she said.

Then, the glorious light faded in her jade eyes.

"Anyway, shouldn't we be getting off, then? I don't want to make a bad start with Aunt Lorenza by keeping her waiting," Luna forced her tone to be light.

"Yes, it is time to go," he agreed, closing his fist over her little gift.

She bent and picked up the carpet bag.

He didn't move and she looked quizzically at him.

"If you are busy, I can take the train as she suggested. It leaves from Hogsmeade in ten minutes," she said.

"Are you in such a rush then to be off? Eager to live with a bitter old woman who frightens you?" he asked.

Confused, Luna shuffled slightly, looked down.

"I am not eager, exactly. But when there is something that must be done, it is best to get on with it. And as you say, this is just a few days when you look at it. I will be back here after the holidays. I'm sure that in the meantime, my aunt won't be quite so frightening if I get to know her properly," she answered.

"You don't sound sure," he observed.

Luna fell silent. No doubt, he was about to tell her that he was sorry this was the way it had turned out. It would make him feel a little bit better for she knew that he felt guilty about her leaving. Not bad enough to keep her here but, just the same. Feelings must be appeased, the right thing seen to be done, politeness observed.

"And I have not given you my present," he said.

Luna did not want trinkets or even more books, much as she loved them. Even her treasured stories could not make the unpleasantness of her reality fade away.

"You don't hold with Christmas. I heard you tell Mr. Filch when he was grumbling about putting his back out helping Hagrid carrying in those trees for the Great Hall,"

He took her hand, led her outside, shut the door behind them. Stopped on the corridor and with the light from the candle in the sconce on the wall playing on his face, he gave her a steady look.

Here, the light was dim, he looked once more as though he was a wraith, stepping from the shadows.

"Close your eyes," he ordered.

Luna's throat felt tight, the last thing she wanted was to free yet more tears. Not now, looking like a baby was not the way to take her leave. Better to face what was happening with some grace. She was glad to obey him, thinking that he meant to portkey them out of the castle.

She felt his hands on her shoulders, he turned her in a perfect circle and then, all was still again.

"Open them," he said from behind her.

"About to tell him that she had travelled by portkey before and was fine with it, Luna opened her mouth and without thinking, her eyes.

The sight that greeted her was nothing she was prepared for. There was his door, thick, scratched wood, aged and decorated with the large, iron ring for knocking. Except, it did not look as it had minutes before when she arrived at it from her dormroom.

Now, a large bow tied from a thick ribbon of glistening velvet was attached to the knocker. Luna blinked and then turned to look at her guardian, finding his face serious, sombre, almost stern.

"I don't think I understand," she said.

"This is my gift, Luna. My home is your home. How would you like to spend Christmas here instead?"

Black eyes peered at her, shadowed by the dancing candlelight.

Slowly, Luna smiled.

"We'll need a tree," she said.

"Yes."

"And decorations,"

"Yes."

"Music," she gave him a golden grin.

"Don't push your luck!" his eyes flashed but his lips quirked in the ghost of a smile.

"So what changed your mind? She asked some time later over a steaming mug of hot chocolate. Behind her, a fat fir tree shimmered with gleaming lights.

"An old friend of mine likes to say that being alone is not a choice many would make. It never made much sense to me until just recently," he said.

"You choose for me to stay," she said with a contented sigh.

"I do. Even if it does mean that I get a bonus guest," he eyes the cat, which was curled on the mat before the fire, gazing adorningly at his mistress.

"Happy Christmas, Severus," she said and took a large gulp from the mug of chocolate.

He said nothing. It was enough to know that as ever, she was quite correct. Happy it was.

.


End file.
